The Same Woman
by Rose-Arwen-Padme
Summary: -COMPLETE- Set before LOTR. Aragorn is on his way to Rivendell to finally say the 3 words to Arwen she's been waiting to hear since they first met. But on the way he met a strange elf, returning to Imladris for the same reason.
1. Chapter 1: Glir

NOTE: Set early on in Aragorn and Arwen's relationship, before the Lord of the Rings Saga.

_Summary:_ Aragorn is on his way to Rivendell, mainly to see Arwen and finally tell her that he loves her, but meets an elf on the way also going to Imladris—for the same reason.

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**The Same Woman**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padme**

**Glir**

The fire was crackling, and however small, it gave Aragorn enough warmth to keep him from shivering. He lay back upon the earth, and as he relaxed, his breathing slowed to a slow pace as his mind cleared of all the troubles plaguing him. 

He was traveling to Rivendell, the home of Master Elrond and his family. Though of course Aragorn set his path towards Imladris often to rest and enjoy the sense of peace that enveloped his being there, this time he had a specific mission he hoped to accomplish.

He hoped to see Arwen, and finally tell her the three words she had been dreaming to hear since the first time they had met under Rivendell's night sky.

He closed his eyes and let his mind drift as he remembered a conversation they had shared about it on a previous occasion….

_"Beloved," he whispered into her ear. "We must retire. The day that will greet us when the sun next rises will need both our strengths. Let us use the opportunity of the night whilst it remains."_

_Arwen turned around in his arms, her back no longer facing his chest, but now her face next to his. "Oh, Estel. Will there ever come a day when I will welcome the sun in a bed beside you? Or am I destined to awake each morning alone—you in your bed, me in mine?"_

_Aragorn smiled, but the grin did not reach his eyes, which held a glint of sadness in them at her comment. "Nin-meleth, fear not, for a day will soon come when both our wishes, one in the same, will be granted. I see not the path that will lead to that completed aspiration, but in the time in between we must be content with our time together that begins after the great light in the sky has risen, and ends when night vanquishes over the day."_

_Arwen pouted, which made Aragorn smile at her adorably. "Will you swear, Estel?" she asked, pleading with him to comfort her._

_"You have my word, Arwen, that one day, we will know no obstacles or barriers. Nothing means more than my word."_

_Arwen's eyes shot up from the collar material that she was fingering to meet his eyes. "You are wrong, Estel. There is something that you could swear by that means more to me, to you, than anything else."_

_"Arwen—"_

_"You could swear by your love for me. Swear by your undying love for Arwen Undomiel that you and I will greet the morning sun together one day soon." Her expression was firm. "Tell me, Estel. Tell me you love me."_

Aragorn's face was sad and troubled. "Arwen, please. You know that I have never said those three precious words to anyone before. When I speak these words to you, I want it to be in a special moment. A moment when you and I are more connected than we have ever been before. You understand, don't you dearest?"

Arwen smiled back at him assuredly. "It will be worth the wait to hear the words, Estel. I will control my heart until the day comes."

Suddenly the sharp sound of a twig breaking nearby startled Aragorn out of his daydream. In a second he was up, his sword drawn. It gleamed in the light of the campfire like a mirror catching light.

He spoke loudly and clearly, his voice ringing in the air. "Who is infringing onto the threshold of this area upon the time of the sun's waning?" Silence followed. "Speak quickly!"

"But put down your sword," a male voice replied through the night air, unthreatening and calm. "And I will show thyself as a mere elf making his way to Rivendell. Nay, not a thief, nor robber, nor anyone meaning harm."

The next moment, a tall, well-built elf in muddy travelers robes stepped out of the bushes. His hair was long and blonde, with dark blue eyes. A bow was tied upon his back, along with a case of deadly sharp arrows.

"Greetings, stranger," the tall elf said. "Pardon my intrusion. It seems my feet have wandered into your seclusion on their own accord. Forgive me."

"Mae govannem," Aragorn said, nodding his head in respect, replacing his sword in its sheath. "Im algaro i-nauth (I did not have the thought that

The elf raised an eyebrow, surprised. "You speak the language of the elves as if it were your own, stranger. It rolls off your human tongue as if spoken natively sense birth. Who are you?"

"My name is Aragorn, Arathorn's son, Lord of the Dúnedain."

The elf thought for a moment before asking, "And Isildur's Heir, no doubt?"

Slightly surprised, Aragorn nodded. "I am, yet you have yet to reveal your own name, and so we remain strangers."

"I am Glir, son of Egerlio, a elf traveling towards home after many years away."

Aragorn asked, "And where, do tell, is the home that you speak of? Is it the land of Rivendell, Imladris that you said in a moment past?"

"Indeed," Glir replied. "For a time spanning hundreds of years I have dwelt in Mirkwood, in peace and enjoyment. Though home is where my heart now wishes to return to, in the halls of the city where my childhood was spent in happy days."

Aragorn smiled. "Sit, new friend, for this is a curious meeting indeed! For I too am traveling to Rivendell. Nay, not for business, but also to sooth my heart and mind."

And now with a friendly smile on his face, Glir sat upon the ground on one side of the warm fire, and Aragorn sat across from him on the other side.

"I grew up in the House of Elrond—" Aragorn began to explain.

"I know."

Aragorn looked keenly at the elf across from him. "How can that be? And how did you know I was Isildur's Heir?"

The elf smiled. "Do not be troubled, for as I said, I grew up in Rivendell myself. Long have the heirs of Isildur grown in the house of the Lord of Rivendell. Though they grew in secret, a few close friends of Lord Elrond knew the truth, one of which was my father, Egerlio. My father has since passed into the Undying Lands, along with my mother, Yrler the Fair. Yet good friends to Lord Elrond they were, and assisted him in the upbringing of many of your fathers."

Aragorn sighed. "That awareness doth sooth many of my suspicions and concerns. And so, your parents, Egerlio and Yrler, they cared for my ancestors?"

"Yes," Glir answered. "For a time."

Aragorn nodded, now understanding, and feeling a strange kinship with this new elf. "It is quite a coincidence that our two paths crossed on the way to Rivendell. Shall we continue this journey together, and be companions?"

Glir smiled and agreed. "It would be nice to have a companion on the road home. At the end of the three days the path will end at Rivendell, and both of our homecomings will be welcomed with smiles and cheers." He sighed, and then his voice became strangely low and almost sad. "And then, hopefully by the next day, I will be engaged to the fairest, loveliest maiden that walks upon this earth."

Aragorn grew interested in Glir's comment, though flames of pride blazed in his chest. For no matter how fair and lovely Glir thought this new she-elf was, Aragorn knew the true loveliest and fairest maiden that walked upon this earth was Arwen, Evenstar of her people. He supposed Glir had never seen Arwen before, which did strike him as odd.

"Tell me about this wonderful maiden," Aragorn asked.

An expression came over Glir that had not grasped hold of his features before in front of Aragorn. "Ahh," he sighed. "She is the fairest, and loveliest maiden that walks upon this earth."

Aragorn refrained from laughing. "Yes, you said that already."

"Alas, I did! Well, I would not dare to not admit that I am so infatuated with this creature, that whenever I think of her, my mind becomes a puddle. She has some unknown strength over my being."

Aragorn asked simply, "And what, pray tell, is the name of this wonderful individual? Seeing how I myself have lived in Rivendell as my home, I may yet know her name."

A large smile crossed Glir's face. "Ah, her name is the sweetest sound ever whispered. The air is blessed to have it pronounced in it. And, Aragorn, I doubt that you know not her name. Every elf or elf-friend knows of the Lady of Imladris. For alas! The wonderful elf-maiden of my desire, the unknown keeper of my heart, is none other than Lord Elrond's only daughter, Arwen Undomiel, the Evenstar of our people."

Aragorn sat wide-eyed at the elf in front of him, momentarily forgetting to breathe.


	2. Chapter 2: Shocking News

**The Same Woman**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padme**

**Shocking News**

"Excuse me?"

Glir looked back at the man across from him, disturbed by his strange stance of wide eyes and an open, gaping mouth. "Arwen Undomiel," he repeated.

Aragorn still was not convinced he had heard correctly. "I'm sorry, but one more time?"

Glir was beginning to wonder what sort of company he had stumbled upon as he replied for the third time, "Arwen Undomiel."

Aragorn closed his eyes and breathed deep. "The Lady of Rivendell?"

"Yes."

"The Evenstar of her people?"

"Yes."

"Granddaughter of Galadriel?"

"Yes."

"Hair as black as the night? Eyes that could outshine any star?"

"Exactly."

"Sister of Elrohir and Elladen?"

"Yes!"

Aragorn sat back, unable to think clearly. "That's not possible."

"You are very peculiar, Aragorn," Glir whispered. "Very peculiar. Yet, though I yearn for this woman dearly, and I love her like the stars," Aragorn fought to inhale, "I cannot say that my love is returned."

Aragorn's head snapped up. "Pray, do not stop there! Continue your tale!"

"Well," Glir said, crossing his arms and shifting his feet. "I have known Lady Arwen since she was born to the beautiful Celebrian; there is not more than a hundred years between us, though. I loved her from the first moment I saw her. We grew up together, I as her third brother, she as my only sister." He smiled, as if remembering several memories. "Hmmmm…. well, though several times I professed my eternal love for her, she refused me every time, saying she loved me too much as a friend to love me as anything more."

Now it was Aragorn's turn to sigh, but in relief.

"I refused to admit defeat," Glir continued. "But she never embraced me as anything more than a friend. Alas! When friendship is not enough, the only solace one can have is to leave. To stay in Rivendell was to see her, and not be able to cherish her the way I desired to….. it was more than I could bear." He ran a hand across his forehead, greatly subdued in spirit. "So I retreated to Mirkwood. I lied to you earlier, Aragorn. I did not spend all my years in that place in contentment. For my heart has always yearned to be with her….Arwen." He raised his head. "But that is why my body is traveling once again to my homeland. To Arwen! To win the maiden that has kept my heart once and for all!"

Aragorn could only stare at the ground in dismay. Somehow the thought that Arwen never returned the feelings of Glir did little to lift his discontent.


	3. Chapter 3: Arwen's Hope

**The Same Woman**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padme**

**Arwen's Hope**

Arwen could hardly contain her excitement. Within days, Aragorn would be returning for another visit. She did not needa message or word of mouth to know that. Her heart told her as much.

Her eyes twinkled like stars and a smile spread across her beautiful face as she imagined the sight of him walking to her as he arrived under the Rivendell gates.

She closed her eyes, envisaging the feel of Aragorn's strong, protective arms around her when they embraced for the first time after being apart for too long once again.

She imagined his sweet lips brushing against hers, with his scratchy mustache covering her cheeks.

Getting lost in her daydream of Aragorn's return, she wrapped her own arms around herself in an attempt to make the picture and feel in her mind more real.

Unfortunately, her slender arms could not offer the overwhelming warmth she found when enveloped in his arms. She shook herself, and then continued her walk among the gardens of her home. She noticed one of her handmaidens waiting for her several yards up ahead, and walked quickly to meet her.

Her face beamed with the combination of the sunlight and her own natural glow. "This is it, Estel," she muttered under her breath as she walked. "I know this time you have come to tell me you love me. And nothing could make your arrival day happier!"


	4. Chapter 4: He Should Have Told Her

**_The Same Woman_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padme**

**He Should Have Told Her**

A thousand thoughts raced through Aragorn's mind. He knew it was foolish of him to think he had been the only person to be affected by Arwen's charms, beauty, and spirit. That still didn't make the shock any easier to bear.

He watched Glir as he slept. They had spent the night talking with each other, man getting to know elf. But the conversations had only left Aragorn more distressed.

He had learned that Glir was a brave, admirable elf, highly respected in Mirkwood. He was experienced in battle; his skill with a blade was strong. He was loyal and would never leave a friend to suffer alone. He would defend his family proudly, and stood up for what he believed. In between subjects, his devotion to Arwen shone through as well.

In mind, these commendable traits bombarded him, telling him this man was worthy of Arwen beyond a shadow of a doubt. But, what he was most troubled by was the most obvious about Glir. The one thing about him that could never change, the characteristic that Glir was born with and wouldexist with tore at Aragorn's being.

Glir was an elf.

He was immortal, he would not be killed by age. He could pass into the Undying Lands on the ships like all the rest of his kin. He could always be there for… Arwen.

Although Aragorn would never admit it to himself, he was actually just as worthy, if not more worthy, of Arwen as Glir. However, his one fatal flaw, _literally_, was of course the fact that he was mortal, and she was elf kind.

This was not the case with Glir.

If anything, Aragorn was not as scared as Glir meeting once again with Arwen as he was his reunion with Elrond. The Lord of Rivendell had always been against a relationship between Arwen and Aragorn because of the fact that Aragorn would one day die. Another piece of information that Aragorn had gained in his conversations with Glir that night was his strong relationship with Elrond. Arwen listened to Elrond, and trusted his counsel. If Glir returned home proclaiming his wish to marry Arwen, and Elrond agreed, he could talk to her when Aragorn wasn't around to intervene….

Aragorn sighed heavily, his troubles taking a toll on his mind. "No," he muttered under his breath "Arwen loves me," he thought to himself. "She does. And I love—

"No!" Aragorn whispered suddenly in panic, almost awaking Glir. Arwen did not know for sure that Aragorn loved her, Aragorn thought in horror. He himself had foolishly made sure of that! He had wanted to wait for a perfect time to tell her. He had wanted to make it a grand romantic gesture that she would be sure to always remember. Now he laughed at himself, thinking how naive he had been. She had begged him to tell her, telling him that any moment they were together was a perfect moment. He should have listened, and told her while he had a chance.

Now, if he still told her when he reached---_they_ reached—Rivendell, would she only see it as a desperate act to keep her, and not the meaningful truth that it is?

He should have told her.


	5. Chapter 5: Traveling to Rivendell

**_The Same Woman_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padme**

**Traveling to Rivendell**

"Aragorn, wake up."

Aragorn slowly awoke, and then pulled himself onto his elbows. The blurring image of Glir meet him.

"I assume you did not get much sleep last night," Glir said, noticing the dark circles around Aragorn's eyes.

Aragorn shook himself and stood up, swaying slightly. "You would assume correctly." He would not admit that it was because he had been plagued by depressing dreams of Arwen, only to awake and remember how grave the reality of his situation was. At the most, he had received two hours of sleep that night.

"Hmmm…" Glir hummed awkwardly angely, not knowing tiredness. "Well, are you rested enough to start again?"

Aragorn both dreaded and looked forward to their arrival at Rivendell. But he wasn't about to tell Glir that. "Ready to begin!" he answered, with mock cheeriness.

They mounted their horses, Aragorn on his and Glir on Aphadon, a strong, white elvish horse with a silk-like mane. Together they galloped off through the trees, each with only their destination, Rivendell, in mind.

Shortly before mid-day through their travels, Aragorn rode next to Glir, and they slowed their horses to a walk to talk. "Glir, tell me more about Arwen." He didn't know why he asked, but it was just something he had to do. He had to know the extent of Glir's affection.

Glir smiled faintly, a far off look in his eyes. Suddenly he point to his left, and Aragorn followed his gaze. A flock of different colored birds were flying through the clouds, their calls singing in the air like a sweet melody. As they lowered and flew over trees, other birds from the trees would rise up and join the flock, adding more colors to the flying rainbow. Snow-topped mountains rose behind the birds in the background, and the sun glimmered brightly on a lake nearby.

"It's quite a sight," Aragorn murmured.

"It's dull, boring, and dry." Glir replied firmly. Then he broke into a grin. "Compared to Arwen."

Aragorn raised an eyebrow, on the break of laughter. He couldn't understand why he thought this was so hilarious, though he agreed with the elf.

Suddenly, Glir asked him a question that caused him to sit up strait and wipe the smirk off his face.

"Is there any woman you love?"

Aragorn stared at Glir, who looked back at him innocently. "Yes," he choked out.

"Who is she?"

Aragorn sighed heavily. He decided to tell him the truth about the woman he loved. "Well, she is more beautiful than the brightest stars in the sky. And her voice is sweeter than honey." He _had_ answered Glir's question without lying, but he prayed that the elf wouldn't press for a name.

But Glir only laughed. "It sounds like our two love interest's could compete with each other in beauty." He smiled. "But I have to warn you, it would be no contest."

Aragorn smiled too. "I agree."

Some time after, the air was blessed sweetly with the harmonic sound of Aragorn's singing voice. "Ir Ithil ammen Eruchîn, menel-vîr síla díriel, si loth a galadh lasto dîn! A Hîr Annûn Gilthoniel, le linnon im Tinúviel."

Aragorn sang softly as he rode, Glir some yards behind him. He hadn't thought much about it when his lips had moved and his lungs drew air to mumble the words.

"The Luthien's Song?" Glir called, and Aragorn stopped singing.

Without turning around, Aragorn answered, "Yes. You know well of that song?"

Behind him, Glir shook his head. "No, just bits and phrases. I mostly knew that you were singing the song of Luthien from the tune. It is unforgettable… such a unique melody. Such a unique elf-maiden."

Aragorn smiled, thinking of whom it really was that he was singing about. But he wouldn't tell Glir that.

Aragorn swallowed, but his throat would not contract.

He could see it now, Rivendell. It was in the distance, and the sight both terrified and elated him. Somewhere in the expanse of the Last Homely House was Arwen.. He had finally come to tell her that he loved her. By the end of the day, Arwen would know of both Aragorn….. and Glir's presence.


	6. Chapter 6: Arwen Plots A Surprise

For those that are interested in why I choose "Glir" for….Glir's name, it is because the word means "poem, song, lay" in S. elvish.

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**_The Same Woman_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padme**

**Arwen Plots a Surprise**

****

Arwen looked out her vast window for the hundredth time since the news had arrived. Of course, and unfortunately, the sight she desired to see had not yet come.

She had expected the news, her heart had informed her, yet acutally hearing that an approaching small party of a man and an elf from another one's lips stirred her excitement beyond belief.

The news that an elf accompanied her love held no interest for her. It was not uncommon for Aragorn to join with an elf returning home to Rivendell and travel with them to their shared destination.

Arwen wrung her hands in anticipation. She stalked to her window facing the valley and cliffs across and examined the land, desperately searching for a pair of travelers. Arwen saw nothing.

"Looking forward to someone's arrival, daughter?"

Arwen spun around on her heel to see her father smiling at her in the doorway. She grinned at the understatement.

"Indeed, father. I am… greatly looking forward to the coming of Estel."

A faint line appeared on Lord Elrond's forehead, one that was not caused by age. His eyes lost their shining.

"Aragorn does indeed approach Rivendell's gates. Will you greet him there?"

"Of course!" Arwen exclaimed, too quickly. She calmed her voice. "I mean, yes, father. I will be there to welcome Estel home."

Elrond's lips were set in a firm line. He suppressed a small smile. "I too await Aragorn's entrance." He sighed. "Although I doubt as eagerly as yours." Arwenwasn't able to mask a faintblush that appeared at his comment. He stepped forward and pressed his hand to his only daughters cheek. "Nae! Hebnin meleth vi rin, vi Undomiel's gur, sui mae, iell."

Arwen sighed, pained by the look in her father's eyes: a sorrow that grew with each whisper of Aragorn's name. Without another word, Elrond somberly turned and walked from her chambers, a sad smile on his face.

Arwen was dismayed for only moments, until which she remembered she would be in Aragorn's arms within hours, and smiled again with a girlish charm.

Arwen looked to the window yet again.

She was about to turn away in a puff, when two small figures caught her sharp Elvish eye as she scanned the land. One was an elf, as evident by their uniquely light step, the other a man clothed in black.

Aragorn had returned to Rivendell.

A gasp of joy escaped Arwen, and her cheeks flushed with delight. His name was a sigh on her lips. Finally, her long waiting was to end.

The excitement was too much for her to handle. He was still half a day's walk away, too much even for an elf that has lived 2,000 years. Then a mischievous smile crossed her beautiful features. Without another thought, Arwen summoned a maiden to retrieve her riding robe, her most elegant one, and another maiden to ready her horse, Asfaloth, in the stables.

Arwen would ride out and met Aragorn, surprising him.

She did not know the ultimate surprise was waiting for _her_.

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Elvish translation:

Alas! Keep my love in remembrance, in Undomiel's heart, as well, daughter.


	7. Chapter 7: The Meeting

**_The Same Woman_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padme**

**The Meeting**

"What about it?"

"Well, the rain storms in-"

Glir stopped his sentence halfway. Both of their attentions were suddenly fixed on an approaching sound. Though the noise was obviously far off, Glir was able to hear it by the use of his pointy elf ears, while years of living and hunting in the woods had trained Aragorn's ears to pick up on even the slightest sounds.

"That sounds like..."

"Hoof beats," Aragorn finished for Glir. He listened again. "A single horse approaches."

Glir smiled. "Well! Although I had expected to enter the gates of my home again unannounced, surprising everyone with my presence, the thought of an encounter now does not dismay me." He looked to Aragorn in excitement.

Aragorn offered a meek smile. Something, his instinct perhaps, which had guided him through many things during his life, told him that this was not going to be just some elf from Rivendell to meet them. He could not place it, but somehow, he knew the person approaching.

Then the mild curiosity switched to fear. He knew who was coming. He had had an abnormal, beautiful connection with the creature since he had first met them all those years ago. He could always feel their presence before Aragorn even saw them.

He knew Arwen was coming.

Slight panic overtook him. He had hoped to plan for a long speech for Arwen. He wanted to know what to say. Now, all of a sudden, things were moving so fast, and Arwen would emerge from the trees in a matter of seconds. For the first time in a long time, Aragorn decided to hold his breath and just wait for the storm.

Glir was happy as a lark, swinging a bag around carelessly. Aragorn couldn't help but feel sorry for him, while envy him for his present calmness about the situation.

"So, our journey comes to an end," Aragorn said to Glir, who wasn't fully paying attention. "Our journey as traveling companions," his voice dropped, "and as friends."

"Look!" Glir called. "The rider comes!"

Aragorn turned, a for a moment the time's problems and concerns melted away, and all he thought about was _her,_ as his eyes longed to see Arwen once again.

Yards away, Arwen hummed to herself contently. "Not far now," she muttered under her breath. Louder, she commanded, "Noro lim, Asfaloth!"

With a new surge of energy, Asfaloth raced even faster, gracefully carrying his rider through the shrubs and fallen trees. Arwen smiled. Her heart pounded in her chest with excitement. Over the sound of Asfaloth's light hooves hitting the ground, she could hear two male voices up ahead... and... and one of them was Aragorn's!

She rode on and soon emerged into the clearing.

Aragorn had dreamed of Arwen every night since he had last left her, of her smooth skin, red lips, and captivating eyes. He did this every time they were apart. However, each time they were reunited, her beauty still seem to amaze him and cause him to lose his breath for several moments. Even when he had been sure he had memorized every line, every feature of her face, every time he saw her she seemed to have another detail about her he could not recall that he missed. This meeting was the same as ones before.

The scenery blurred and melted away from Aragorn's world, leaving only Arwen, her face beaming when she caught sight of him. All of their actions seemed to occur in slow motion. Even while she hastily dismounted he ran towards her to meet her in his arms before her light feet even touched the ground, yet to him his legs could not seem to get there fast enough. It seemed like years before he had crossed the eight feet between them and caught her in a tight embrace, oblivious to the world around them.

Arwen held him to her, never again wanting to let go. Yet she pulled back only to grasp his head in her two hands and pull it towards her face in a fiery kiss. Aragorn returned her passion with even more of his own, and Arwen felt her self slipping to the ground as her knees gave way, powerless to the pull he had on her. He merely slipped his hands to her lean back, and pulled her closer, making sure there was no empty space between them.

After several moments, they pulled back, ready to actually talk and whisper loving hellos.

"You're here," Arwen muttered as she ran her hands up his muscular chest, as if making sure he was real. "You are actually here, my love."

He smiled adorably at her. "There is no other place I would rather be at this moment, my Arwen."

Arwen smiled lovingly, and they kissed again. Suddenly, something caught Arwen's eye, and she broke away in surprise.

"_Glir_?"

For the first time in what seemed like forever, Aragorn remembered that there were other people on Middle-Earth besides Arwen and himself. The color in his cheeks and the glittering in his eyes vanished as if they had never been there when he looked to the elf standing not so far away.

Glir's face was pale, his eyes lifeless, even as he stared at Arwen and Aragorn. His mouth hung open, and the bag he had been swinging merrilly through the air lay as a crumbled heap on the ground beside him, forgotten. His palms were balled into fists, and he stood as still as a tree rooted deep into the soil. No wind passed by them then, and even his blonde hair seemed to lay cold and dull against the green of his traveling cloak.

But what Aragorn saw next scared him most. In the deep pools of Glir's eyes, the intense sadness and destruction in them slowly, progressively changed to something darker, eviler as they looked steadily at Aragorn. They changed to balls of overwhelming hatred.


	8. Chapter 8: War

**_The Same Woman_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padme**

**War**

A smile crossed over Arwen's face, half of puzzlement, half of happiness. "Glir?" She looked at Aragorn then back at the elf. "Glir?" she repeated.

Glir did not answer. He only stood there, silently facing the two of them. After several moments, Arwen turned to Aragorn in confusion.

"It is Glir." Aragorn answered the question in her eyes. "The one and only." He held his breath. "He is returning to Rivendell after many years in Mirkwood."

Arwen, her natural kindness shining through, stepped forward, smiling from ear to ear. "Well!" she exclaimed. "How lucky am I to not only be reunited with the man I love, but also with a dear friend from childhood! And all on the same day!" She moved to embrace Glir. "Welcome home," she yelled joyously, happy to see a friend as dear as this one return.

As Arwen's arms circled around his shoulders and rested there, for a second the distant, pained expression on Glir's face disappeared. An ounce of merriment and pleasure returned to him, happy to hold this wonderful, beautiful woman in his arms at last. Then, his gaze fell upon Aragorn, and the small smile that had started to curve on his lips vanished. Once again he looked cold and unforgiving. The brief moment of simple bliss had past.

Arwen felt him stiffen and stepped back in confusion. "What's wrong?" Glir only continued to stare at Aragorn with his piercing blue eyes.

"Are you not happy to see me as well, old friend?" Arwen asked him, hurt. "Has time done that to you?"

Once again Aragorn witnessed as Glir transformed before his eyes. In a second he seemed to change, again the carefree, brave, smiling elf he had come to know on the journey to Rivendell. He looked down at Arwen with adoration in his eyes.

"Indeed not, my fair Arwen!" he exclaimed, and Arwen smiled. "I have traveled over many lands and spent many days walking to reach you. And seeing you now." he sighed as he looked her over, "brings indescribable feelings to my heart. It is wonderful to see you again, Arwen!"

Arwen laughed and threw her arms around her old friend once more, and this time he readily embraced her back tightly.

Aragorn stood stock-still. He had expected a fight, confrontations, angry emotional words, tears and heartbreak. Why, he had expected a war!

Now, Glir stood laughing and smiling as if nothing had even happened. Aragorn dared to hope for a moment that maybe Glir had actually seen the beautiful connection between Arwen and himself, and wanted them both to be happy. Despite himself he smiled. Maybe he had over dramatized the whole thing! Perhaps he would return to Rivendell at last with a loving Arwen at one side and friend at the other. His shoulders relaxed and his face regained some color.

Then Aragorn looked into Glir's eyes, and he knew none of it was true. For as Glir looked at him over Arwen's shoulder, the dark look in his eyes return. No words had to be spoken for Aragorn to know that Glir was going to fight for Arwen with all his might. He would not take no for an answer. He would not give up so easily.

Aragorn fixed his eyes right back on Glir, the familiar look of determination in his eyes. He shook his head slowly from side to side at Glir, his chin low. So, Glir wanted a fight.... well he would get one. Arwen wasn't going anywhere.

War was coming.

Arwen pulled back, and once again the happy mask fell over his face. "Come," she said, taking his hand in her own. "My father will be so happy to see you." She pulled him back to where Aragorn and her horse were standing. "And you, Aragorn," she added lovingly, placing her warm hand to his cheek. "Though not nearly as happy as I am."

Aragorn smiled, realizing that this was the moment when the games began. "The pleasure my lady," he wrapped his arm around her back and brought her up against him suddenly, causing her to break contact with Glir's hand, her lips a breath away from Aragorn's. "Is all mine," he finished in a low voice, causing Arwen to tremble.

Aragorn abruptly looked up at Glir, amusement in his eyes. "Forgive me."

Glir, surprised by the question given the circumstances, could only stutter, "Wha-wha-what for?"

Aragorn smiled devilishly. "For this." He swooped his head down and caught Arwen's lips in a firm, intoxicating kiss that made her become light-headed. His passion stirred her beyond words, her mind unable to think about anything else besides the pleasure he was bestowing to her lips. When they slowly broke apart, Aragorn leaned in again to kiss her temple, each cheek, her nose, and once again her lips in a slow, soft, drowning kiss.

Arwen stumbled backwards. "You've got to stop doing that," she muttered, waiting for her head to stop spinning. Of course she didn't mean a word of that. "Or else one of these days I'm likely to faint."

Aragorn smiled mischievously. "I think that can be arranged." He looked to Glir, triumph hidden in his eyes. "Once again, forgive me. Even though we have company, I have missed this woman uncontrollably, and could not wait for a private moment to do that."

Glir was about to say something, when Arwen broke in suddenly without thinking. "I don't mind!" Her lips curled up in an embarrassed smile, and her already flushed cheeks became more red.

Aragorn looked back at her, love in his eyes. "That's my maiden."

He couldn't help but add a little empathize on the word "my", enjoying Glir's face contort.

* * *

"I think I could do better on a woman if given the chance," I said, not thinking clearly. Jealously and anger had a strong pull on my mind right then.

Arwen turned around, now facing me, but stepped back into that MAN Aragorn's arms. "Whatdo you say?" she asked, teasing. "Does my friend Glir have a love interest back in Mirkwood?"

I smiled blissfully. "More likely she restsin Rivendell."

Arwen's eyes lit up with interest, and Iwas awe-struck by the shine that came from them. "Oh, tell me, Glir! Who?"

I only smiled wider, and I knew my eyes were filled with emotion when I answered, "Believe me, you will know soon enough, Arwen. It will be very clear whom my heart lies with. Whom it has been with for years."

Aragorn stiffened at this, and I took pleasure in his sense of being uncomfortable. He seemed to become even more agitated when Arwen answered, "She is a very lucky woman. Anyone would be lucky to posses your loving heart for so long."

I felt like I could fly when she said that. All I wanted to do at that moment was tosweep her up in my arms and carry her off, and I worried that my eyes would reveal what Iwas thinking. Another voice interrupts my thoughts.

* * *

"Come, Arwen. We are two weary travelers, who wish to look upon our home once again and rest." Aragorn gently turned her around to face him. "But I must admit, if you had not come to meet me, the only reason I would have pushed on to Rivendell without a moment's rest would be to have seen you... to look into your eyes as soon as possible." He smiled, taking her into his arms. No matter what was going on with Glir, the he-elf could not take away Aragorn's joy at holding Arwen again, or just seeing her. He had no worries about Glir and his motives. Arwen was not going to nestle into any other's arms than his own as long as he was alive.

But a war was coming to ensure that.


	9. Chapter 9: Arrival in Rivendell

IMPORTANT AUTHOR"S NOTE: I know that I got some reviews that mentioned how Aragorn was acting and thinking differently than the noble, kind but brave Aragorn we all know and love. That's great, though! I love knowing that the readers really care about the characters enough to express their concerns. The thing is I wrote the last chapter in mind that Aragorn has never had a threat like this with Glir. And who acts normal when they are in love? Especially when this person you love so much is also being more than noticed by someone else? I don't think Aragorn would be all noble and sweet towards Glir. Tell me if I'm wrong, but I thought he would be really protective of her.

* * *

**_The Same Woman_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padme**

**Arrival in Rivendell**

Arwen and Aragorn walked side by side, and Glir trailed behind them. She related the past events that had taken place in Rivendell since his departure as they neared the gate. He learned that Thagarus, a beautiful horse in Elrond's stables he had shown interest in for many years, had finally given birth to a perfect, healthy foal.

Arwen squeezed Aragorn's hand in her own. She leaned into him and said, "Well, are you ready to be home?"

Aragorn smiled at her, pulling loose hair behind her ear. "I'm with you," he replied softly. "I already am home."

She smiled back, resisting the urge to embrace him and never let go. Instead she raised her hand to caress his cheek, murmuring teasingly, "Such a charmer."

His grin widened. "Does it work?"

"Of course," she replied, squeezing his hand again. Then she turned to Glir, who was having a hard time hiding the red of his cheeks caused by anger. "Glir!" she called. "Are you ready to be home, too?"

Glir's face broke into a grin. "As the Lord Aragorn said, 'I already am home!'" he sing-songed.

Much to Glir's dismay, Arwen only took that as a friendly remark. She kidded back, "How lucky am I to be walking home with two such charming individuals!" Her sweet laughter echoed through the trees around them.

Suddenly, a loud male voice from overhead shouted, "Estel! Estel is here! Make ready, for Estel has returned to Rivendell!"

Arwen smiled again. "You hear that you two? Imladris is stirring with your coming," she proclaimed.

Both man and elf seemed to raise their heads proudly as they emerged through the large entrance to the sounds of clapping and yelling. Arwen let go of Aragorn's hand to race ahead, and she reached her father who was just coming out of a doorway.

"Father," she exclaimed. "Not only has Aragorn returned, but my dear friend Glir has come as well! He has returned at last to his home! Father, come and meet the travelers."

Elrond smiled, enjoying seeing his daughter so happy, a strong contradiction to the distant, quiet Arwen she had been the past few months. He followed behind her as they reached the man and elf, his grin reaching his eyes.

"Aragorn," he called, and the man stepped forward, bowing respectively. "So you have made your way to Rivendell again, and I am glad. All the city rejoices in your arrival, as well. Welcome home."

Aragorn smiled warmly at the elf that had become his father in so many ways. "Thank you, My Lord. I am very happy to be home."

"May I hope that your stay this time will last longer than times past?"

Aragorn nodded in answer to Lord Elrond's question, and added, "Very hopefully, Lord Elrond. I hope to remain fora seasonbefore I embark again."

Smiling, he subtley stole a wink at a beaming Arwen.

"Well, my home is your home, as always, Estel," Elrond replied warmly. He paused briefly to lay his hand on Aragorn's shoulder with a smile.

Then Elrond passed to Glir, and his eyes glittered brightly. "Glir, son of my friend Egerlio. You too have returned to Rivendell at last, and no doubt my daughter is very happy to see you once again." Aragorn stiffened slightly, and Elrond pretended not to notice.

A smug grin was stuck on Glir's face. "To see Arwen again is indeed a breath of fresh air, Lord," Glir said. He walked behind Aragorn, and then came up just between him and Arwen in the space in between the two. He wrapped his arm around her, his grin widening. "I hadn't realized I missed her so much until I finally saw her." He looked into her blue eyes, and Arwen looked back innocently. "It has been too long, Arwen." After a moment, he turned back to Elrond. "And to see you again, Lord, makes me feel like I am surrounded by family. Yes... it is truly good to be home," he said, his voice filled with genuine meaning.

"A feast shall be prepared tonight in both your honor's," Elrond announced. "But now, both of you shall rest. Glir, I am sure you and Arwen have a lot to catch up on," Aragorn'sbreath hitched, "but that can wait till later." Aragorn sighed, glad Elrond had said something right.

His was dismayed though when Arwen replied urgently, "But father, there is no way I could wait around for the feast to become reacquainted with my childhood friend. We have missed so much together; I wish to know what he did in Mirkwood all these long years." She turned to her friend. "I promise I will try not to keep you long. Come, let us walk in the gardens for a time while I hear of your adventures past the Bruinen River."

Glir laughed at her playfulness, and eagerly accepted. "Lord Elrond, please, I could no more resist Arwen than I could resist spring! Let us walk for just a little while, then I shall rest."

Elrond laughed, feeling joy at seeing the pairing of the two. "Please, I am not your father! Do what you want, Glir," and he laughed again. Aragorn could only watch as he encouraged, "Run along, run along!"

Glir laughed, and took Arwen's hand, preparing to lead her towards the gardens, but she stopped him when she cried, "Wait!"

She pulled her hand from his grasp as she walked to Aragorn, her steps slow but steady. "Aragorn," she whispered so only he could hear. "I promise you as well that I will be back shortly. For no matter how much I want to talk to Glir," her voice dropped so low he could barely hear her, "I want to do more... welcoming things with you." She smiled a smile she reserved only for him, and his heart soared back into his chest.

He leaned forward and whispered into her ear, "I will be counting the seconds."

He noticed Elrond was frowning when he pulled back, but not as much as Glir. But Arwen was smiling, and that grin could light up any room, and he was not troubled. In his mind, the world still revolved around only the two of them.

He watched with more confidence as Arwen and Glir walked away, Arwen already giggling as Glir began his recounts, though with a little more edge in his voice that only Aragorn could pick up on.


	10. Chapter 10: Meeting in the Tree Clearing

Mood music, you ask? Come Away With Me by Norah Jones, or Angel by Sarah McLachlan.

* * *

_**The Same Woman **_

**By Rose-Arwen-Padme**

**The Meeting in the Clearing**

The moon shone. The light of the bright stars and the moon cast a white blanket over the path and clearing of trees.

But she was there. Aragorn could feel her; just, somehow he knew she was there. Her existence cried out to him intensely, calling him to come to her. Her very soul intensely screamed for him to come.

He searched for her just as desperately.

Once he found her shadow, he opened his arms and she glided right into his embrace.

She clung to him, arms around his neck, head resting gently against his chest.

"You're home," was all Arwen muttered, but the two words held so much emotion.

When she pulled away, his adjusted eyes could make out her delicate features in the pale light of the moon. She was absolutely beautiful.

Her porcelain face was glowing. Her long black hair flowed down her back in waves of magic-- an ocean of beauty. Blue crystal eyes were potently fixed on him, dancing in the dark.

Everything about her was perfect. Her perfect nose, small and petite, carefully placed in the perfect spot. Her mouth held the perfect curve and her lips were perfect, not too big, but not too small and most certainly moist and smooth.

He leaned down to greet them with his own lips. They lingered there for several moments, then he pulled away slightly to kiss her forehead. He rested his chin on her head, closing his eyes and breathing in the wonderful scent that was Arwen.

She smiled against his chest, his tight embrace half crushing and half comforting her, just the way she liked it.

"Aragorn?" she asked timidly. Her voice was muffled from her mouth being buried in shirt. Instead of pulling away from her to talk, Aragorn kept her just as close, as if worried that if he loosened his grip just a little she would slip away.

"Hmmm? What is it?"

"Are you sure you and I are not the only two beings on this earth right now?" Her smile widened as she felt the love flow through their bodies.

His lips formed into a warm grin as well. "Does it feel like that to you, too?"

She only sighed a yes into his chest, closing her eyes as she listened to the beat of his heart against her ear.

"Your heartbeat is a song I could listen to for eternity," she whispered, pulling her mouth away from the sweet confines of his shirt only long enough to speak and be understood.

Aragorn swallowed hard. "Alas, the song of which you speak will one day slow and stop. What will you listen to then for the rest of eternity?"

Arwen pulled away and looked him sternly in the eyes. She placed a finger on his lips, silencing him. Her voice was of desperation and pleading.

"Speak not of such things, at least not now." Her eyes bore into his, and the evident pain he saw there almost broke his heart. He rushed to mend her pain.

"Shhh, darling Arwen. I am here now. I am real. This… this is real. This is now."

She pulled him into another tight embrace, and his arms instinctively surrounded her. They were a perfect fit, their bodies molded together like two pieces finally complete.

"Aragorn, I love you so," she whispered, and every word dripped heavy with all the love she felt.

Her love flooded through him like continuous waves. His feelings for her had never before been so strong. He had never felt so alive. He knew that this was the moment he had waited for.

"And I you, Arwen Undomiel." Stunned, she pulled away to look at him more clearly. He smiled and took her chin in his two fingers, and raised it up. He kissed her tenderly yet passionately, shy yet powerful. He pulled back and looked into her eyes, taking her two porcelain hands in his own and bringing them up to his chest.

"I love you, Arwen," he whispered with husky breath.

After a moment of utter silence that almost drove an already anxious Aragorn mad, she smiled, and he sighed with relief.

Arwen practically jumped into his arms with excitement. She kissed his neck, his ear, his chin, his shoulder, any part of the skin that she could reach. She sighed happyily into his loving embrace.

"You see, my love?" she murmured. "That wasn't so hard, now was it?"

He laughed heartily into the air, the sound echoing through the trees around them. Music to her ears. "Say it again, Aragorn," she commanded. "I want to hear it again."

He complied eagerly. "I love you." Her heart soared. "I love you." Her heart soared even higher. "I love you, I love you, I love you!" She felt like her whole body was soaring thousands of feet up.

"And I love you, as well," she sighed contently. "Now and forever."

For several minutes they were comfortable just to stand in an envelope of arms of the other and mumble, "I love yous".

Soon, a troubling thought entered Aragorn's mind, and Arwen could sense him stiffening as it pounded his mind.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Arwen," he looked into her eyes, "truthfully, why do you love me?"

Her first emotion was to laugh at this silly statement, but when the look on his face told her he was serious, she bit her lip and held it back.

"Aragorn," she answered, stroking his cheek with the back of her hand. "I just do. Indeed, it is a magical feeling, more wonderful than I have ever experienced. And… somewhat unexplainable. I cannot put this feeling into words, I can only trust that you feel this towards me as well and know what I am feeling."

"I do, darling," he replied earnestly. "More than you'll ever know. But why…"

"Why you?" she finished, a smile on her lips. "Because believe it or not, Lord Aragorn, under all your flaws," she teased, "like your horrible manners, your rugged bad looks, your non-existent humor, and your lack of intelligence," her smile had grown from ear to ear, "um, you are really not that bad."

Aragorn laughed heartily. "Oh, now I know why I love you. You make me feel so good!" He mocked hurt. "What were you saying about my looks? Ruggedly bad?"

She continued the game. "Well, they are not your finest point by far," she said slowly, "but they _are_ better than your attempts at comedy. Actually," she paused. "I lie not about your humor."

"Or rather, lack of it?" he asked.

"Indeed," she replied, landing a kiss on his nose. "But I love you all the same. And you love me."

"And I love you," he repeated. "Every inch, every talent," he raised an eyebrow, "every flaw."

"What flaws?" she asked, playing wounded. "I know not of any flaws of my own."

"Exactly!" Aragorn exclaimed, laughing. "Your confidence, shall we say, ranges a little off the charts, Madam?"

She swatted his arm. "I declare, I think you name me arrogant."

"No, not arrogant," he answered. "But full."

Now she raised an amused eyebrow. "Full of myself?"

"No," he whispered huskily, and he stepped closer. She sobered and looked dreamily into his eyes, feeling herself becoming lost in them. "Full of my heart."

"You are my heart," she replied earnestly. "You are my everything."

"I love you, Arwen." And he did, so much.

His lips claimed hers again, as they danced the night away in each other's arms, drunk with love and lost in their own world.


	11. Chapter 11: The Library

**_The Same Woman_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padme**

**The Library**

Each was bound in leather, a leather that was once bathed in a rich color, but now only faded from time. Each held years of knowledge and information. The spines on the jackets were worn smooth over the ages, and soft to touch. No shelf was bare, and the paintings on the walls around her showed historical stories of their own.

Arwen stood in the library of Rivendell, clothed in an emerald green dress, a small yet detailed net-crown of jewels upon her head. Her lips were formed unconsciously into a small smile. She had awoken early-- now it was the day after her late-night meeting with Aragorn.

_Aragorn_. The name was a sigh on her lips. The name rang through her ears, pounded through her veins, and beated with her heart.

And he loved her. Her small smile stretched to a grin from ear to ear at just the thought. It wasn't as if she didn't know he loved her before. She knew he had loved her since they had first met walking under the trees that night years ago, but… to hear it! Oh, to hear the words come from his mouth! To see his lips move as he said those three words!

_"I love you…"_

It was a magical feeling, one she had never experienced through all her years on Middle Earth. Even after living for so long, she was still learning new things. And she loved it.

Suddenly, she felt a presence behind her, a comforting, loving one, and instinctively thought it was Aragorn. His strong arms surrounded her from behind, finding a gentle yet firm hold around her slender waist. She closed her eyes, running her hands up and down his arms, relishing in the feel of his muscles moving under her fingers. She felt him bury his face in her dark hair, heard him breathe in her scent.

A low moan escaped his throat. She smiled, still her eyes closed, as she in turn released one of her own.

It was Arwen who broke the silence first. "It seems as if you missed me as much as I missed you, dear," she purred.

Her only response was the feeling of him nod his head through her hair, a definite 'yes'.

"I dreamt of you last night, you know," she continued. "I dreamt of you all night." Again she felt the movement of him nodding a yes, his head still tangled in the wonderful scent of her hair.

He caressed her bare arms, her neck, and then once again her stomach, rubbing circles over the thin cloth of her dress.

She suddenly felt the urge to feel his perfect lips on her own, and spun slowly around, her eyes still closed, so she could kiss him. She immediately wrapped her arms around him, opening her mouth to him.

Well, the tongue did come to prod her mouth… but it was different. Letting it pass, she moved to deepen the kiss, putting her hands up to tangle her fingers in his silky brown hair.

But to her surprise, there was no hair there, she opened her right eye a peek to see what had become of the brown treseles… but there was none.

And the teasing whiskers that she usually felt from his beard were not there either. She missed their scratchy touch.

She pulled her mouth away only to say, "Aragorn, did you shave your beard?" Then she kissed him again, but pulled back to see the hair cut.

She was met with blue eyes instead of gray-brown, blonde hair instead of chestnut, smooth, bare cheeks instead of a beard; and a creamy skin tone instead of a tan one.

She was met with the face of Glir.


	12. Chapter 12: The Library Continued

**_The Same Woman_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padme**

**The Library Continued**

There was no mistaking it. She was in Glir's arms. She had just kissed Glir.

The shock lasted only a second. Her next reaction was much more powerful, much more controlling of her actions. It momentarily blinded her eyes to the point where Arwen could not see.

Her next reaction was anger.

Before she knew what she was doing, no, she had _wanted_ to, her right hand had come up to hit the side of Glir's face. The force of the blow surprised even her, but she did not regret it. The sound of the slap echoed throughout the quiet, still library. Next the sound of her heavy pants of anger filled the space around them.

"Gl-Gl-Glir?! Glir! How— how dare you! What were you thinking?" Her eyes were blazing balls of fire. "I-I," she stuttered through her words with her fury. "I-I don't know what to think!!"

Glir shrugged his shoulders sheepishly. "I am sorry," he replied meekly. He plastered on a solemn, sad face, hoping to play his sympathy card.

"You're sorry?" she gasped. "You're sorry? What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't," he answered. "Please, Arwen, I had only meant to give you a hug from behind. I only thought you were playing when you leaned into me like that, so I played along." His blue eyes became big. "You must understand, I had no idea you were going to suddenly turn around and lock lips on lips!"

Arwen stopped for a moment, thinking. "Well… well I… I suppose I never did open my eyes to see who it was that was behind me. I just assumed that it was…"

"Aragorn?" he finished for her, trying his best to hide the disappointment in his voice.

"Yes, of course" she whispered. "It was silly of me, I suppose. Slightly silly... Dear friend, I am sorry I slapped you. How, um, how is your cheek?" She didn't have to ask. The once creamy skin was a red-purple. The image of five fingers and a ring that she wore on her right index finger were visible. She really had hit him hard.

The immortal elf smiled, answering, "I'll live."

She offered a grin at his remark. "I am sorry. I just did not suspect my best friend to be kissing me."

"Are you implying that I am a bad kisser, My Lady?" he asked, feigning hurt.

"No," she said uneasily, awkwardly. "I did not say that." Her gentle features made a face. She was obviously uncomfortable talking about kissing with her best friend. "It was very strange, that is all. Like… like kissing a brother."

"Please, stop there, Arwen," he pleaded. "I do not wish to hear of any experiences with your brothers..." his voice trailed, the sentence purposely left hanging.

Arwen stepped forward again to hit his shoulder, though, of course, not as hard as she had hit him before. "Glir, that is not funny!" she exclaimed. "Do not joke about such things."

He pulled back, still joking as he said, "Oh, dear! Who would have imagined the fair Lady Arwen to be so violent!"

She laughed with him, and then added, "Only when I am around you."

"But," Glir started, then turned his back to her to hide the cloud of fury in his eyes as he spoke. "But you are passionate— only when you are around Aragorn."

"Yes," she answered, surprised by his change in demeanor. "Yes."

"Well!" he answered triumphantly. "I suppose I just changed that."

Arwen frowned, but a small smile appeared on her lips. "Friend, you forget that I thought you were indeed Estel. I did not think you were yourself."

"True," he replied. "But the records do not lie."

"What records?" she asked, curious.

"These records," he said, suddenly pointing to his still very swollen red lips. "These records do not lie."

"True," Arwen answered, a gleam in her eye. "But then again, neither does that one."

Arwen pointed to the red-purple mark on his left cheek. He shrugged his shoulders. "But if both do not lie, which one is actually telling the truth, and which only thinks it says the truth?"

Arwen shifted her weight on her feet. Even after all the wisdom she had acquired over the years, this statement made no sense to her. "You confuse me, Glir. What do you mean?"

Glir looked at her with a strong stare, and then looked down at the stone floor. "Nothing, My Lady.Dismiss it."

Arwen broke into a smile. "Please, Glir. How many times have I told you to call me Arwen?"

He laughed. "Yes, yes, I know. I suppose Arwen is less formal that 'My Lady'," he paused, his eyes glittering, "and more formal than '_Arwy_'."

Arwen broke into a look of utter surprise, then of mock shock. "You wouldn't dare!"

Glir, smiling like a little boy, walked in a circle around Arwen. "What? I would not dare call you by your childhood name?"

Arwen fought back a huge grin. "Glir, only you and I know of that stupid name you had to bestow me within an hour of silliness. You would never…"

"What? You think I would never let dear Aragorn know that his beauty's real name is _Arwy_?"

"It is not my real name!" she exclaimed, holding back a giggle.

"Arwy! Arwy! Arwy!" he sing-songed. "Arwy Undy!" He suddenly stopped, straightened his tunic, and headed for the wooden door. "Oh, Aragorn! I have some information for thee! Oh, Aragorn!"

"No!" Arwen shouted, rushing to her friend to block the door. She stopped right in front of him. "Do you not forget, _dear _friend, that I have some secrets of my own I myself would love to divulge about you."

Glir covered his heart with his hands, a fake panicked look upon his face. "The lady does not play fair!"

"I am sure the Rivendell Stable Master would love to know what really happened the day his bag of rare, new oats ended up in a tree."

Glir smiled. "I had some time getting it up there, didn't I?"

"I was sorry I did not think to time you," Arwen replied.

Glir pretended to pace about for a bit, as if deep in thought, then sighed heavily, ending up in front of Arwen. "Alright. After much consideration on my part… your secret is safe with me."

"Hmmm! I knew you could not resist to cover yourself with the blanket of secrets once again, after your own fine self was threatened with unveiling and discovery. You have not changed a bit."

"I know, and yet I have changed so much," Glir replied, only half smiling now.

Arwen sighed, happy that the awkward tension between herself and her old friend seemed to have disappeared. "Yes, you have changed. In a good way, so far as I can see since your arrival with Aragorn." Her face brightened with just the mention of her love's name, and noticing this, Glir felt his insides churn. "Speaking of Aragorn, I must find him now. I wish to spend as much time as possible with him before he leaves again." Her voice had grown quieter and more sad as the last sentence spilled from her mouth.

"What about me?"

Arwen gave Glir a look of surprise, silliness, and confusion. "Glir, you will be here for many more hundreds of years. Aragorn may be leaving for his next excursion in a month! I… I want to see as much of him as I can."

Thoughts of her loved one heavily weighted on her mind, she only mumbled a good-bye as she turned and briskly left. She was gone before Glir could say another word.

"Hmph!" he exclaimed angrily. "Well, Arwen, the day will soon come when you are hugged once more from behind and will turn around to greet me. Not Aragorn..." His eyes would have burned a hole through the wall. "..._me._"


	13. Chapter 13: Fury Trembles

**_The Same Woman_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padme**

**Fury Trembles**

"Arwen," her name was a sigh on his lips. "How I love to just look at you."

Arwen smiled warmly and wrapped her arms around Aragorn's waist, resting her hands on his back. "Become used to it, my love. I don't want you looking at any other women besides me."

Aragorn breathed in the heavenly scent coming from her oceans of hair burying his face. "Do not ponder days that will not exist," he replied. "You know I love you. You and only you."

Arwen smiled again, recalling their magic meeting in the clearing several nights ago when he had voiced his feelings. "How could I forget?" She took his hand and walked with him down the path in the gardens.

Glir watched them, hidden behind a large tree. Far away enough not to be noticed, yet close enough to see and hear. _Not that they would notice me if I were two inches in front of their faces, _Glir thought miserably, reflecting on how close and involved with one other the two were. Once again, a deadly fire burned in his eyes.

He couldn't wait any longer. He had watched for several days since the library encounter, and he thought his blood would boil from jealously. The precious minutes in the library had filled him with hope, and reminded him again of why Arwen Undomiel must be his. His and no one else's. Then, she had found Aragorn, and the two were inseparable, spending every waking moment together it seemed since the library miracle. Miracle. He had called it a miracle for a time. Now he panicked that those moments would scar his heart, a one-time occurrence that left him aching, yearning for more.

_No! It will be like that sooner or later! Arwen will be mine._

He had decided on the sooner.

"Aragorn!" Glir called, yelling to make up for the distance in between the two. "AraGORN!"

Abruptly the man turned, breaking away from Arwen. They were on the terrace on one of the floors, talking. He looked down several stories to see a loathed enemy staring up at him with piercing eyes. "Yes? What is it?"

Arwen looked over his shoulder at her friend below, and offered a smile.

Glir cleared his throat. "I only wish to speak with you for a few brief moments…. friend." He had tried not to choke on the last word.

Aragorn was immediately suspicious, but called back down, "Wait a moment, I shall be right down... _friend_." He turned to Arwen. "Do you mind, love?"

Arwen shrugged a shoulder; an action that Aragorn noticed was even a graceful motion when done by her. "I will not lie to you. Mmmm, funny how when we are together the seconds fly away from us, yet when we are apart for even the slightest amount of time, they are stretched out into echoes of eternity."

He smiled, a laugh on his lips. "It's called being in love. I shall return momentarily."

"And when you do I shall—"

"AARRAAGGGOORRNN!!!!!!!!!!"

Aragorn didn't hear what Arwen should do when he returned, for she was interrupted by Glir's irritated wail. Arwen grinned.

"That's Glir. As impatient as ever."

"Well, the creature is getting on my nerves," Aragorn answered gruffly.

Arwen stood on her tiptoes and kissed his nose quickly. "Go. And be nice about it."

"Yes, My Lady," Aragorn mused, and proceeded to the nearest flight of stairs.

Glir stood straighter with tension when Aragorn finally appeared under the archway. He noticed Arwen was still above them, on the balcony, and he smiled.

"I am even happier that Arwen is able to see this," he said, as he walked towards Aragorn.

Aragorn coolly looked him up and down, wondering what he meant. "See what, Glir? For what purpose did you call me?"

Glir also looked Aragorn up and down, but in a way that one would measure up their fighting opponent. "The are some things that need to be said, once and for all." He paused. "And some things that need to be taken care of."

Aragorn raised an eyebrow, the powerful man not the least bit threatened by the elf. "Taken care of, you say?"

"Once and for all."


	14. Chapter 14: Suspicions, Doubts, & Plots

**_The Same Woman_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padme**

**Suspicions, Doubts, & Plots**

Aragorn's face moved into a crooked smile. "Oh, dear," he mused, his voice low and with deadly calm. "Should I be intimidated by the jealous elf who tells me he wants things taken care of once and for all?" Aragorn, a man who had defeated many foes with his awesome skill of the sword, a man whose bravery was as strong as his lineage, a man who believed he could easily defeat Glir in several minutes, was also a noble, wise man who knew not to spill blood on matters that can be settled with words. He was a man who did not misuse his talent with weapons to take advantage of the lesser endowed. This was what made him Aragorn Elessar.

"If a fight is what you came for, Glir," Aragorn continued, "then you can turn around right now." He rested his hands on his hips. "I will not fight you."

Glir struggled to keep his composure. His anger wanted to controls his actions so badly, actions that would consist of grabbing his bow and flying the sharpest arrow into arrogant Aragorn's noble chest with lightening speed. But his plan depended so much on his outward appearance and attitude.

"Aragorn, you have judged me unfairly." He pretended to be hurt. "I merely desired to offer my hand to your own in friendship, and to put this childish game behind us. Arwen is happy with you, and I could never even try to deny her happiness." He flinched inwardly, but more so when he categorized his feelings for Arwen in his next statement. "What I feel… felt, for Arwen, was nothing more than a foolish infatuation." His heart felt betrayed by himselffor putting such a low name on his mountain-moving emotions.

Aragorn hesitated.

"Surely, Lord Aragorn, you know an apology and an offering of peace when you see one."

"I thought I did."

Glir bowed his head, pretending to be considering his next words. "Y-you, sir, owe me nothing, and I owe you nothing. However, I have come to you offering peace between us. I see it was a waste of both our times. Forgive me." With that, Glir turned around, counting to himself in his head, "_3…2…1…"_

"Wait!"

Glir allowed himself one smile before he turned around, a solemn mask instantly falling over his face. "Yes?"

Aragorn still wasn't completely fooled, however, he could see by his face. So maybe this Aragorn wasn't as dimmed-witted as he had hoped. He was obviously far from it. His acting routine had been flawless though! Perfect!

"You say it was a childish infatuation," Aragorn started, ready to have his turn to talk now. "Yet before you knew who I was to Arwen you could not cease to talk about your undying love for her."

"Indeed, I mentioned it was an immortal love. But sometimes not everything that seems so very real and lasting lives forever, even to the elves."

Aragorn stepped forward. "I accept your offer of peace, Glir."

Glir pretended to sigh with relief, but stopped suddenly at Aragorn's next words.

He spoke in a low, threateningly growl. His eyes stared into Glir's. "But know this. I do not trust you. I do not wish to call you friend, so do not bother to call the name unto me. And…" he paused, letting the silence have its affect. "I will be watching you."

Glir was unsure whether or not his mask would hold up much longer. He had to get out of there before he lunged at the man. "Understood, Lord. Trust does not come immediately, and I knew this." He let himself have one remark of suspicious pleasure before he left. "But the future holds many things."

And with that he gripped Aragorn's hand, gave it a strong, firm shake, and walked briskly away. Aragorn watched after him for several moments, and then went back to Arwen.

She immediately noticed the tension in his shoulders and the weary look in his gray eyes. "My love? What is the matter?"

"Nothing, nothing at all."

"But... won't you speak to me of it?"

"No."

"It obviously distressed you, and so now it distresses me!"

"You misjudge your observations!"

She pleaded with him, begged him to tell her what he and Glir had talked of. "Please, Aragorn, I want you to tell me."

"Arwen—"

"Tell me now!"

"NO!" he shouted, his voice echoing harshly around the outdoor stone corridor.He mmediately regretted raising his voice to her. His suspicions of Glir and tiredness with that ordeal, along with the anger that hadn't yet disappeared over another person wanting Arwen, had combined together in one boiling second to cause him to lash out at the only person he cared about most in the world. "I'm sorry, love, I'm sorry." He gathered her in his arms, unable to witness the shocked expression on her face a moment longer. "I'm so sorry."

Arwen hugged him back, hesitantly at first, then suddenly changed to hold on to him as if her life depended on it. She gripped him so hard she worried she might leave little bruises. "It's alright, Estel, it's alright. Shhh. Just please, tell me what you just said to Glir."

Instantly she found herself being held at arms length away from Aragorn. He had pulled her away from him, now staring determinedly into her eyes. "No, Arwen."

"Please—"

"Forget it!" he interrupted, the edge back in his voice. "Maybe some other time, some other place, but not now. Not tomorrow, and not next week. Not any time soon, but someday, perhaps. I will tell you."

She stepped out of his loose grasp, her head bowed. Her voice was deep and quiet. "I shall see you at dinner, then?"

Aragorn sighed. She was upset with him, it was obvious. But in a way that was purely Arwen, she was not pressing it, she was not yelling and screaming at him, she was only timid and despondent. He would have preferred the shouting any other day. He felt so disappointed in himself when she was like this, so overcome with shame that he had hurt her.

He stepped forward, took her hand, and leaned in for a magical, soft kiss. Slowly he pulled back and whispered, "Yes, I'll see you at dinner."

She nodded and stepped away, heading for the door inside the room off the balcony. She turned when he called her name softly.

"Arwen." He searched her face. "I love you."

She only nodded again, and went back continued through the door, her head bowed sadly.

Aragorn watched her go, but was comforted by the fact that their love was strong enough to get past this little argument, and they would be cuddling and holding each other by tomorrow like nothing had happened. It had happened before. It would happen again, but they always worked through it effortlessly.

Yes. He would apologize tonight at dinner, and be kissing her goodnight in a tight embrace in a matter of hours.

But that didn't make his shame and guilt of disappointing her any less easier to bear.

* * *

As he marched away, back towards a deeper area of the trees, Glir clenched and unclenched his fists. _Noble Aragorn! Wise Aragorn! Calm Aragorn! Honestly, who does the man think he is?! _He didn't respond to the question in his mind with the answer of 'the heir to the throne of men', but trudged on through the ever more isolating forest. After several minutes, he entered the small cave he had discovered as a boy. It was dark, damp, and misty, but the shadows moved on their own accord. Their glowing eyes looked to Glir as he came. They had been waiting long in the uncomfortable space. His eyes flashed as he inspected the strong, dark elves around him.

"It is time."

A tall elf with chestnut hair stepped forward. "We are ready to do you bidding, my lord. Tell us where to find Aragorn, and we know what to do."

"Right," Glir answered. "Take him far, far away from here. Take him into Mordor, anywhere; I don't care, just far away. I don't want to see him ever again."

"Of course, my lord."

"And when you take him far away…"

"Yes, my lord. I know."

"Kill him."


	15. Chapter 15: The Taking

**_The Same Woman_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padme**

**The Taking**

The pale moon was not up yet. He noticed this as he made his way to the dining hall. Usually the moon had shoon itself by now— but wait—it was merely behind a collection of clouds.

Aragorn smiled to himself. Only in Rivendell. Only in Rivendell did the night seem so…. perfect. Only here, in this magical place, did the night hold as much beauty as the day. The tips of leaves glistened like silver as if they held a dop of water on them, which reflected the moon up above. The water moved silently yet gracefully, and to watch a waterfall at night in Rivendell, as the gushes of water mirrored the moons light, was really a precious experience of pure magnificence.

Again Aragorn smiled. And what better place than the scene of such great beauty in the world to hold the loveliest maiden in the world? He stopped to picture her in his mind, the maiden who had really chosen him as the man she loved. She loved him. He still had trouble believing such a wonderful thing. To be the heir to the throne of Men, though he had mixed emotions about that, he could still believe it. To know who his ancestors were, proud kings who shaped Middle Earth into what it was today, some in wonderful ways… and some in terrible ways… he looked in the direction of Mordor… knowing who was still there. He could believe all that too. But to have the love of Arwen Undomiel?

He opened his eyes, eager more than ever to see his lady. He would kiss her once, letting all of his shame, pleading for forgiveness, and love transpire through the kiss. She would know. And, if words were still needed after that, he would speak them. He took several steps forward at a quickened pace, almost jogging in the direction of the dining hall.

He never saw the elves behind them. He never felt the leader charge forward in a second, using his natural skill of an elf to be as quick as lightening, and raise his club above his head.

He only felt the powerful blow of the weapon, and the dirt as his body landed into it. Then he only saw the blackness….

Blackness….

_...Arwen...._


	16. Chapter 16: Changes

**_The Same Woman_**

**Chapter 16 **

**Changes**

_Blackness…_

_Gray…_

The blackness was slowly but surely disappearing, growing brighter with every passing second.

A flash of bright white…..

"Ahhh!!! My eyes!!! _My eyes!!_"

The brilliant light he was met with when he opened his eyes sent him into a spiraling, painful shock.

Aragorn shouted out to no one in particular, so he was fairly surprised to hear a low, gruff voice reply, "Yes, well, you haven't opened them in quite a while. There's no wonder as to why they hurt."

Aragorn, still with his eyes closed, asked wearily, "Who are you? Whatis the matterwith my eyes?"

He felt someone shift beside him "Like I said, you haven't opened them in a long time. They're not used to the sunlight again yet. Hold on a little while longer, they'll get used to the light." He heard them move again. "But this probably isn't helping—Rodwen, shut the curtain!!"

Instantly, the incredible bright light was gone, but it was not dark. Aragorn knew it was safe to open his eyes now, and after several more blinks, he opened them fully. They immediately started adjusting to the room. He seemed to be on a bed-- he had slept on more comfortable ones-- and he looked up to see that a small window was above him. Obviously, the sun's light had poured in through that window, only moments before. No wonder he had been temporarily blinded.

He next moved to stare eye-level at a man to his right. He was slender, young, and handsome, with piercing blue-green eyes and shaggy blonde hair that fell to his ears. It kept on seeming to fall into his eyes no matter how many times he pushed it back. His clothes were dirty, like some areas of his face, and the cloth was torn in multiple places. He sat next to Aragorn, resting himself on a wooden stool. He returned Aragorn's stare quietly.

"Wh-who are you?" Aragorn asked again. "Where am I? Where is Elrond?"

"Elrond?" asked the man, surprised. "Elrond? Well, I don't know any creature around here by the name of Elrond."

"There's an Elmound over the Third Hill. Perhaps he's means Elmound." A smooth, elegant voice floated to Aragorn's ears, and he looked to see the source of it.

A tall young woman with curly, deep red hair that cascaded down her back looked at him with emerald green eyes from the far side of the room. She wasn't skinny, rather slightly filled out, and wholesome looking. Her clothes also were soiled, yet they didn't subtract from her splendor in the least. Indeed, she was very beautiful, and walked with a magical grace as she came forward, resting her delicate hand on the man's shoulder.

"Ah, this is my wife, Rodwen," the man announced, smiling at the attractive woman beside him. He turned his attention back to the man on the bed. "Did you mean Elmound?"

"No," Aragorn answered quickly. "I said Elrond. I mean Master Elrond of Rivendell. Now you have yet to tell me who you are or where I am, and I demand to know at once!"

The young man wasn't taken back by Aragorn's outburst. His eyes were full of compassion and understanding. "I know this must be strange for you, mister, and I apologize. My name is Joui (_pro. like a mix between 'joy' and 'joie')_). We've been taking care of you, my wife and myself."

Aragorn frowned in confusion. Taking care of him? But the Healers in Rivendell were, well, elves. These beings were clearly of the race of Men. "But, you're not elves."

Joui broke into a grin. "No, I suppose were not."

"Wha-whe-wh—" Aragorn couldn't think clearly, and it felt like battle drums were pulsating in his skull, causing him excruciating head pain.

Rodwen stepped forward suddenly. She placed a soft hand on his shoulder. "Sir, you must stay calm. You may have finally awoken, but you have not yet recovered from your injuries. They were… are, very severe."

Aragorn struggled to not pass out. He complied, obeying her soothing tone and firm words, and laid down upon the bed again, slowly. After several minutes, when the room stopped turning, he asked hesitantly, "Where is Arwen?"

"Beg your pardon?" Rodwen asked, confused.

"Arwen Undomiel." He stared into their unknowing faces, until he little by little realized they didn't recognize the name of the most beautiful maiden on Middle Earth. This shocked him. "The Evenstar of her people? Arwen? Songs have been written about her eyes, and others abouther other endless beauties, as well. Surely you have heard of the Lady of Rivendell?"

"There you go again with that 'Rivendell' talk," Joui replied. "We've never heard of it."

Aragorn placed a shaky hand on his forehead. He had no idea of where he was, but he must be very, very far from home if people didn't know of Rivendell, much less Lady Undomiel or Lord Elrond.

"Like I said, we've been taking care of you. Mister…?"

"I am Estel," Aragorn answered, not sure if he could reveal his more royal name to these people.

"Estel," Rodwen sighed. "I've never heard of such before. That is a very unique name. So is, er, Arwen?" Aragorn nodded. "Yes, that name is very beautiful."

"So is the woman," Aragorn muttered softly.

"Yes, well, Estel, Rodwen and I found you in the woods not far from our home here. We live in seclusion, which is how we like it, but there is no one else around for miles. We took care of you the best we could. Whoever beat you left you there to die. You should feel fortunate. When my wife found you, you were just barely holding on to life. That must be some blood you have in you."

"_You have no idea_," Aragorn said to himself. Aloud, he replied, "I appreciate your kindness. I will repay it somehow, I swear."

Rodwen immediately started shaking her head no, but Joui spoke first. "No, plese, Estel, we could not ask such a thing. Believe it or not, you have been company for us, though, um, completely quiet. It is not often we see another face. You have already repaid us."

Aragorn was about to protest more, when Rodwen suddenly shot her gaze intently his way. "Wait! I couldn't place it before, but I have heard the name Arwen before."

Aragorn smiled, which was almost painful, considering there was a deep cut on his left cheek. Perhaps there was hope after all.

"Yes, Arwen, yo—you shouted out that name countless times when you were going through your fever. Oh, yes, um, after the first few days, you developed a terrible fever, Estel. We thought for sure it would be to much to handle for your body, on top of your injuries. But you pulled through. It lasted quite a while though. But, yes, you shouted out 'Arwen' while you were sick."

A sharp pain shot through Aragorn's chest. All he wanted at that moment was to get to Arwen. For her to console him and take care of him. But he didn't even know where he was.

"Where is this place?" he asked slowly, as if dreading the answer. "What is this land?"

Joui answered, "You're on the outskirts of Rohan, my friend. Rohan, the land great horses come from."

No, it couldn't be true. It couldn't be. He was so, _so_ far from Rivendell. _So far…_

"How… how long have I been here?" Aragorn clenched his fists together, snagging the blanket in his palms.

Joui rubbed his chin. "You been here almost three months."

Those were the last words Aragorn heard before he passed out.


	17. Chapter 17: Stubborness, Succumbing

**_The Same Woman_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padme**

**Stubborness and Succumbing and White Knuckles**

One week. One week and six days since he had awoken in their home. Joui and Rodwen had ignored his persistent, pleading exclamations to let him leave and return to Rivendell. They had said he had needed rest to recover his strength first. Besides, some of his wounds were not yet healed.

At first, Aragorn had stubbornly paid no attention to their demands. That was until he had tried to sneak out one night while they were sleeping in their room. Aragorn had made it as far as the front door before he collapsed.

All the same, Aragorn had agreed to wait two more weeks, starting that night, until he left. His heart had screamed, _"No! Get to Rivendell! Get to Arwen!"_ But in his head, a faint but firm voice, perhaps the only rational part of him left after being in love, repeated that his body did need rest and to heal more if he was to make the grueling journey across Middle Earth back to Rivendell from Rohan. But that didn't make the final decision and harder to swallow.

One week and six days. And the morning was quickly approaching.

* * *

She had lost track of the days. She had lost track of all time. She only felt… emptiness. She felt numb. 

Scraps of an olive tunic. Drops of blood on fallen leaves leading deeper into the forest. A clearing where there were signs of a struggle. Disturbed dirt that was usually untouched and broken twigs on the ground.

Still, Glir had volunteered lead the hunt, and taken a team of elves, whom she had never heard of or seen before, and searched far and wide. He said he had passed through every boundary on Middle Earth. From Mirkwood to Mordor. From the Shire to the sea.

If she had had a clearer mind, if she had not been so overwhelmed with her present emotions, she might have noticed that he was only gone three weeks. That he had traveled all the corners of Middle Earth intwenty-one days.

He was dead. Aragorn was dead.

There was no body, but despite the persistent objection somewhere deep in her heart, she had believed Glir. There was proof enough in the clearing.

She had refused to accompany him there to see for herself.

She felt like she was inside one of those winter scene dioramas that were agitated to create a blizzard. The world had been shaken in a terrible way.

She was in a daze, and plans had already been put into motions that she could not stop, even if she wanted to. Everything was a blur around her. She was in a ferocious storm, and was anxiously waiting for the eye to come.

Talks of a memorial service…

Talks of a statue to be built…

Talks of a gown to be made…

Talks of an immediate wedding…

Arwen was in a daze, and was anxiously waiting for it all to be over. _Would all of eternity be like this?_

Love shouldn't hurt so much.

* * *

Aragorn kissed Rodwen's delicate hand, and shook Joui's firmly. For the hundreth time it seemed to Aragorn, Rodwen check his bag again. It had to be light enough for him to carry over all those miles, yet still have all of the necessary items like food, water canteens, knifes, etcs. 

"Please, Rodwen, everything is still there from the last time you checked it five minutes ago," Joui pleaded, smiling at his beautiful wife.

"I swear," Aragorn remarked seriously, turning to Joui, "that I will never forget your kindness." He wrinkled his brow, rubbing his palm across it agitatedly. "Someday… if I decide to have… if I find myself entitled to… power and authorization… I will use it to thank you both the way you deserve." His voice sounded funny. He was thinking about his lineage. There was so much to do, so much to make up for… but if being king meant he could be able to help people like these, and be able to repay them for their generosity—

Joui slapped him hard on the back, abruptly bringing him out of his thoughts. "Well, between your not understandable nonsense words, I think I detected a thank you." He laughed. "A thank you which is not needed." He looked his new friend over. "My goodness, Estel! I see you are practically sweating to leave! That anxious to get to this, ah, Rivendell?"

Aragorn shook his head, an image of beautiful Arwen forming there. "You have no idea."

Rodwen stepped forward. "I suppose if you want to make it to the ruins before sundown, you should leave while you can." Her voice was sad and reluctant. She too had found a friend in this Estel.

"This will notbe an everlasting farewell," Aragorn said to her. He bowed before her, like she was a lady in a court, and Rodwen blushed. He wasn't swayed. He was convinced Rodwen was a natural lady, and made a silent promise to mention her to Arwen. As Queen, Arwen would need handmaidens and—

There he went again! Aragorn tried to keep his frustration and his reckless thoughts to himself. The only thing clear and certain in the future for him was that he was going to be happily reunited with Arwen.

"You are right, My Lady," and Rodwen blushed and shook her head again. Her red cheeks matched her red hair. "I must be moving."

He wished both of them good-bye once more, then mounted the horse they had so graciously given to him. "Farewell, my friends," he called, then raced off. He continued to look back at their figures, waving their arms in earnest, until they became nothing more than two specks in the distance.

Now, onto Rivendell.

* * *

A part of him thought he would never get this far. A part of him thought he would have collapsed for good several miles backwards. But here he was, struggling on, slightly bent over on the horse. It was only the burning _need_ inside of him to get to Rivendell, the longing in his very soul to see Arwen's face that kept Aragorn going. At night he dreamt endlessly of her, but the smoky image created in his sub-consciousness could never be compared to the real-thing he knew was dwelling in Rivendell.

Each step took him closer to home; each step took him closer to Arwen. But with each step of the horse, every time another front hoof moved, his longing increased too. By now, after having left Joui and Rodwen's house a week ago, the sheer _need_ to be home threatened to submit him to insanity. It overwhelmed him, making it difficult to detect any approaching visitors. He needed to be on the lookout, day and night, and though he had traveled alone many times, it wasn't normal to have his frustrations over Glir pounding him.

Glir. Just the name and Aragorn absent-mindly clenched his fists into tight punching balls. Unfortunately, this was the only subject that actually moved his longing for Arwen from the front and center of his mind, if only temporarily. His outrage—Aragorn had no doubt _at all _that—that—elf had done this to him…

At that moment his sword, encased securely in its leather sheath, rubbed ever so softly against his thigh at his side. He looked down at it quietly and calmly. He slowly raised his hand and rested it on the hilt of the weapon—the engravings of that handle being the only portion of the sword he could actually see and feel.

He looked down at the hilt again, gradually gripping it tighter and tighter, till his knuckles turned white.

"Be patient," Aragorn murmured aloud to the deadly weapon he mastered so well. "Be patient. Glir can run… but he cannot hide forever."

He returned his hand to the reins, and his eyes focused again on the horizon. With each step closer to Rivendell, he was closer to seeing Arwen.

And Glir was closer to his fate.


	18. Chapter 18: Light Green Tunics

**_The Same Woman_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padme**

**Light Green Tunics**

_Fate is so kind to me_, Glir thought smugly to himself. He smiled from ear to ear as he stood with his hands behind his back on a balcony. It was dawn, but he had been up for several hours. The magical place of Rivendell, in all it's splendor, had been quiet and still when he had first awoken some time ago. But now, even at the time when Rivendell usually became busy with the start of a new day, it was still quiet and slow. It was as if everyone walked under a heavy blanket of timidness. Elves, especially Rivendell elves, were never rowdy or loud by nature, but today if any stranger ambled through the grand gates of the city they would think the inhabitants were all mutes.

The thoughts tugged the haughty grin from Glir's face, replacing it quickly with a scowl. Mourning should be nothing new to them—they had befriended mortals before, and lost them over time. Why should this _Aragorn_ be any different?

Forcing the unwelcome notions from his mind, Glir concentrated again on what events would be taking place after the "mourning period" was over. His grin came back with full force.

* * *

Although his ribs still ached, Aragorn comforted himself as he rode with the knowledge that his other wounds had healed. He had been traveling for over a month now, and had progress from Rohan long ago. He had met little resistance, which was very good, though what trouble did manage to cross his path had not been severe enough where even an injured Aragorn could not deal with it. He never attacked first, however, and if he could he tried to inflict wounds that were not life threatening. Serious wounds, to be sure, that left his opponents unconscious or immobile on the ground as he continued on, but nothing that couldn't be healed with treatment. Of course, if the orc, as it usually was, came upon him with the vengeance of purely wanting to rip the very life from him… well, Aragorn wasted no time in permanently extinguishing any nuisance that kept him away from Rivendell that much longer. There had been more orcs so far than Man robbers, whose only desire had been to kill him. As a result, Aragorn's blade had spent more time being driven directly into chests, than making cuts into legs and arms.

Rivendell. The city together enticed and haunted his dreams. Visiting it was both paradise and prison, but as he neared the actual place, he was glad to note that there had been more paradises than prisons. Still, he feared sleeping at night, weary of his mind trespassing into the hell of nightmares. Nightmares of Arwen, dead after refusing to love Glir. Or worse, nightmares where she did give in, and she was happy in his arms. His heart broke a thousand times with the images of two blissful elves, a female and a male, one the radiant Arwen, and the other a satisfied Glir. He needed his rest at night, but nevertheless awoke with a relieved sigh whenever the bright sun intruded underneath his eyelids after another unbearable nightmare.

Aragorn idly guided the horse over a stream, careful not to lead it into deeper water as they crossed.

But then, of course, there were the heaven dreams. Dreams where afterwards he awoke with a cry of agony when the retched sun stole him away from his paradise. One morning the sun was an ally, a friend pulling him away from a dark dungeon he could not escape while he was subconscious. Another morning, the sun could be a hated foe, an enemy worthy of a loathed, high pedestal next to Glir.

But those dreams…. dreams where Arwen was always safe in his protective arms. Where Glir, species, and time did not exist. He would kiss her, tell her how much he loved her, and she would respond with the same passion, proclaiming that her deepest of all affections would never fade. He would run his fingers through her hair, an ocean of sweet darkness that fell to her back like a cape. Aragorn would sing to her, and make her laugh. Sometimes, after he awoke, he remembered a joke or two that he had said to her in her dreams, that his 'dream Arwen' had thought was particularly funny, and stored it in his memory. He was curious to see, when they were finally reunited, whether or not when the 'real Arwen' heard it she would produced the glorious sound of her musical laughter, or simply smile warmly at his attempt at a joke, shake her head, and sigh, "Oh, Estel."

But there was no Arwen to talk with, to laugh with, to joke with. No Arwen around to gaze in wonder at, or to shower with urgent kisses. Aloud, Aragorn moaned despairingly, "Oh, Arwen…"

It was several hours later when Aragorn heard a twig crack nearby. As he had been making his way back to Rivendell, he had come across a few roads. He would follow them, knowing he was still heading north, but always stayed just off the road, hidden out of sight, but where he could merely guide his horse a step and could see the obvious, wide path.

As he heard the unmistakable sound of voices, coming from the direction of the road, he stopped the horse, listening with his trained ears. They were muffled, but he gathered enough information from the voices to know that there were five males traveling. And these five males were speaking elvish.

Aragorn immediately steered the mammal he rode out of the trees and shrubs and emerged onto the road only a few yards behind the elves. They turned around in surprise, but seemed not to really care that this strange, ruggish, unusual man had suddenly appeared from the foilage. In fact, after their initial surprise, the five elves broke out into slow grins.

Tipsy grins, Aragorn noted.

The elves were slender, with no clear weapons, and though they were probably several hundred years older than Aragorn, in the elven appearance they looked young. By Man standards, they would seem to be no more than teenagers.

"Good day to you!" one of the elves in a light green tunic exclaimed in the basic tongue, his voice slightly slurred. "Come stranger, help us lessen our burden!" His eyes grew wide, but shut for a second as he hiccupped loudly. "The _woooonderful _burden of… elven wine."

Aragorn had known there was something amiss with these elves, but the slurring of this one's speech, combined with the uneven, swaying stances of the others, and barrels of something under each's two arms… those fact confirmed it.

Never, never in all his years of life had Aragorn _ever _come across drunk elves. Drunk Men, drunk hobbits, and other species that had been intoxicated by the pull of wine… but never elves! He knew that they thought themselves to dignified for such "intolerable behavior". These five of their races obviously were not from Rivendell, and judging by their clothing, were not from Mirkwood either. Aragorn knew that the Mirkwood elves tended to wear darker clothing, not a comparison to their personalities, but because it allowed them to blend in with the forest around them. These five elves wore very light, almost pale colored greens.

"Elven wine, sir?" Aragorn asked, though he knew that must indeed be what was incased in the barrels.

Hiccup. "Yes, stranger." Hiccup. "We—" Hiccup. "—were given some to take as a gift—" Hiccup. "— to the party. But some miles back when our wagon broke beyond repair, we continued on foot. But the barrels were so heavy!" He smiled hugely, and then hiccupped loudly. "We decided to lessen the weight of the baggage."

"Indeed," Aragorn mused softly, much amusement in that one word. These elves made him smile. He hadn't done that in quite a while. "I'm sure the recipient's of this gift," he pretended to clear his throat, when really he was trying to hide a laugh, "won't mind in the least. They'll have to understand your, ah, predicament."

The elf squinted his eyes in confusion for a moment, as if the word 'predicament' was far to complex to recognize and understand in his given state of mind, but then broke out into a smile and replied, "Yes! Riiight."

"And where might this party be?" Aragorn asked off-handedly, not really as interested as he made his voice out to be. But this was the first conversation he had had with any creature since he had left Rodwen and Joui's home.

"Ah, a fine place if there ever was—" Hiccup. "—one. Such a place like me is rare to been seen in a elf like that." He smiled, and Aragorn knew that the elf thought he was making perfect sense. The Man raised an eyebrow in even greater amusement. "Rivendell!"

Aragorn blinked several times, but that was the only clue that a torrent of emotion had been released inside of him. "Ri-Rivendell?" he croaked.

Hiccup. "Yes. Heading for the grand wedding of Lady Arwen, daughter of Lord Elrond, and Glir, son of Egerio." Hiccup. "This wi-wine is mighty tasty, sir. Would you like to try it?"

Aragorn practically ripped the barrel from the elf's hand. He didn't wait for the cup that was being passed to him—he immediately just pulled the cork out of the hole at the side end with a _POP!_ and drank till wine continuously trickled down his chin. He only stopped when his lungs protested, and he started to choke. Coughing and sputtering, he handed the now empty barrel back to the surprised elf, his hand trembling.

His whole body was on fire, but it wasn't from the alcohol.


	19. Chapter 19: Rivendell

**_The Same Woman_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padme**

**Rivendell**

Aragorn used all of his skills that he had obtained since childhood to sneak his way deeper and deeper into Rivendell. Here a servant would come, there he would quietly but quickly duck behind a bush from view, waiting as they passed. He knew exactly where he was going; the trouble was getting there unnoticed. However, Aragorn was a man with a mission.

He hadn't bothered to learn anymore information from the drunk elves he had met on the road. The second he had finished his very large swig from the barrel, he had drove his horse all the way to the Rivendell gates as fast as possible. If Aragorn had been racing the wind, he would have won by a large measure.

Elf-maidens he recognized as two of the Lady of Rivendell's handmaidens walk by, one carrying something that looked like a large bouquet of white flowers. She talked giddily with her companion. He could catch a few phrases here and there.

"Most beautiful wedding dress ever…." "Luckiest creature in the world to be marrying such an elf…" "Will have the most beautiful children… such a handsome groom…"

Aragorn's blood boiled.

He needed answers. He needed to know. He needed to confront that dead-elf-walking Glir.

And he needed to confront Arwen.


	20. Chapter 20: Where Is My Bride?

**_The Same Woman_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padme**

**Where Is My Bride?**

Arwen sat in her chambers, alone. All around in Rivendell, others rushed to finish the last minute preparations for her… her…wedding, but she sat as still as stone in her plush chair in front of her mirror. Arwen stared at her reflection with detachment. She ignored her eyes, which had lost their magical spark weeks ago, and the swollenness of them due to her endless crying. She ignored her skin; it had been that white and lifeless for a while now. She ignored her hair, done up in an elaborate fashion by a handmaiden; what was once an ocean of shining waves was now dull and coarse. The only thing bright aboutthe maidenwas her Evenstar pendent around her neck. It's light, although dimmer than what it was a few months ago, was still a glowing jewel. The dark wood around the mirror was engraved with intricate leaves and roses, and real vines fell down the side. Usually, she would have cut the vines weeks ago.They never would have grown so far as to almost consume her dresser table, but there seemed to be no point anymore. _Is there a point to anything? Is there a point for living?_

She could not find a point for living, no matter how hard she tried, and Arwen wanted to give up. She had already given up hope, given up dreams, given up faith… why hold onto life? She knew that her kind could die of a broken heart—they were not immortal to _everything_. All she had to do was lie down, close her eyes…surely she was almost to that limit…where the world would begin to pass…she only had to…

"WHERE IS MY BRIDE?!"

Arwen opened her eyes—which she hadn't realized she'd closed. The voice that had shouted the words down the hall just outside her chamber door certainly did not sound friendly. She recognized the voice though; it was Glir, her childhood best friend turned husband-to-be.

Within a few seconds she heard his stomps toward her door. He opened it briskly, and she winced as he shut it suddenly and loudly after he entered.

Arwen had realized not to long ago that her 'friendship' with Glir had dissolved. His demeanor had become cold, uncaring, and selfish. He ordered her, the Lady of Rivendell, around like a servant, and yelled with fury when she stubbornly refused. But he acted so heartless only when he was alone with her; if even a servant of the house was nearby, he was the Glir she had grown up with, the Glir that had greeted her when she was first reunited with him after all those years back in the woods. He was especially on his best behavior whenever her father was around.

Arwen's efforts were in vain to speak of this to her father. He merely patted her hand timidly before she could even finish her first sentence of the subject, saying her grief over her beloved Aragorn's death had confused her, befuddled her judgment.

Glir, dressed in traditional Elven ceremonial clothing, began in a low growl, "My bride, Arwen, is _you_." He stared into her eyes through her reflection on the mirror, not directly through her eyes, since her back was to him.

Arwen's two blue pools remained lifeless, and her once sweet, melodic voice was hallow and void of any emotion. "I know this. You do not have to remind me of our upcoming nuptials, Glir."

He stormed across the room with a deep scowl across his face. She feared that this would be it, this would be the moment when he finally struck her, something he had not done as of yet.

To her surprise, and to her dismay, he stopped his march only an inch from her back, swaying as he stood. She watched in her mirror as he reached out his hands to her shoulders, but placed them there with an almost eerie softness.

"An…arrangement…you dare to call it, Arwen?"

"This is not a marriage, nor is this a ceremony for a marriage."

"There is a holy one to conduct the ceremony. There is an audience, and there are decorations. There is a broom waiting to make you his wife. Valar, there are even refreshments for afterwards! Does this not constitute a marriage ceremony?"

"A marriage is about two people loving each other, being in love, and swearing to love each other for the rest of their lives. I gave my love to one, and forever will it be to that one." She turned her upper body in her chair to face him, and look him directly in the eyes. Her voice was full of a passion not heard from her in months. Her voice shook with unrestrained emotion,"I will _always_ love Aragorn, and _no_ other." She turned forward again in her chair, and resumed making eye contact with him through their reflections. "That is why is arrangement could never be a marriage."

"Can you not see—" Arwen gasped and winced again under his hands, as they severely tightened their grips on her shoulders to the point of pain, "—that the mention of Aragorn distresses me? Can you not see that I am far better than him, that you _will _one day come to love me?!"

Arwen jumped up in her chair, knocking it over, as she faced him with a fury to match his own. "I could never love you!" Her eyes blazed now as she defended her love for Aragorn like a mother protects her young from harm— strong and to the death.

Instead of reacting loudly to her objection, like Arwen expected him to do, he merely cracked a smile at her. "Never say never, Arwen Undomiel. We both know ever is a very long time." He paused for effect. Sarcastically, he continued, "Too bad your Aragorn had no idea of it."

She slapped him before he took another breath, but this time she had no regrets. "You arrogant, hideous, conceited, heartless beast!! _You're nothing like Aragorn!!_ _You are dust in his_—" her voice cracked with emotion, "—would be dust in his eyes! As you are in mine! And you wonder why I could never love you?!! Can _you _not see that I want _nothing_ to do with you?! _That I hate you!?! That I wish in every fiber of my depressive being that you were dead! You are_—"

Arwen was not able to finish and say what else Glir was, for the sudden blow from his right fist sent her sprawling on the hard floor. She waited for her tears to come, but they did not. Glir turned his head sharply towards the window as he thought he heard a muffled shout from outdoors. He soon dismissed it. Arwen merely closed her eyes, remaining silent upon the cold tile of her bedroom as Glir stood above her like a predator cornering his prey, his chest swelled with satisfaction.

He closed his eyes and smiled, loving the sense of fear he wrongly assumed she was feeling. "Let me tell _you_ what _you_ are, Arwen. You are a thoughtless, careless elf-maiden, who was once the greatest being to walk Middle-Earth, and now is just a disgrace to her family."

Arwen spoke slowly. "At last, you recognize the truth… now why don't you _act like you do_?" He remained silent. "I wonder." She paused, as a new truth dawned on her. "You know that you will never take Aragorn's place in my heart…but do you know that you will also never take his place in my father's heart?"

"You're father is no fool. He will forget your pathetic Aragorn in good time."

Arwen wanted to rip Glir to pieces. She braced her upper body up on one arm to look up at him in disgust, her other hand still holding the right side of her face. "Aragorn was my father's third son! He raised him since he was no more than a child! He loved him like his own! How dare you say he will forget him at all?!"

Glir knelt down on his hinges till he was eye level with Arwen. He drew a smug smile from his hard features. "Because his lovely daughter will be talking non stop about her wonderful husband. He will hear so many magnificent things about me from you, yourself Arwen, that he will not even be able to recall his former "third son's" _name_." He straightened himself, and smoothed out a place on his robe. "The ceremony is starting soon. Don't you _dare_ be late, Arwen."

She waited till Glir had left her side, and then she waited till he had closed the door behind him, but it wasn't until she could not hear his footsteps anymore that Arwen let her crystal tears come. She cried rivers down her cheeks; her piercing sobs echoing across her room. She crawled on her hands and knees towards her bed, where she then grabbed the bedpost and lifted herself up. When she was standing to her full height once again, Arwen leaned her forehead against the wooden post, and the sobs continued.

She did not cry because Glir had struck her, nor did she cry because he was so cruel, so vicious. Arwen cried because she was all alone in her deep misery, because Aragorn wasn't there anymore to kiss her tears goodbye—wasn't there to tell her he loved her. Arwen cried so hard it hurt her stomach, so hard the front of her gown was damp.

That is, until a hand suddenly placed itself over her mouth, and her glassy eyes went wide.


	21. Chapter 21: Aragorn's POV

**_The Same Woman_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padme**

**Aragorn's Point of View**

Elladan, a son of Elrond, watched the mysterious figure creep across his family's grounds. He watched the creature move with the grace of an elf, yet the hood the…yes, the hoodthe personwore prevented from seeing anything more about his features. He realized soon enough, with horror and agitation,that the stranger was headed in the direction of his sister's chambers. ThenElladan wasted no more time trailing, he now rushed to confront and possibly fight.

He ran…he drew his long blade from its sheath by his knee…he quickened….

In a moment he had the stranger pulled up from where he had been crouching behind a bush to pause. Elladan held his razor sharp knife to the person's throat, pressing it firmly enough to where with one more ounce of pressure from him, the stranger would fall to the ground with a slit throat, dead.

Elladan growled into the stranger's ear, "You have but a moment to tell your name, Visitor, or you shall feel the swift cut of my blade, and then feel no more."

Silence.

"Do not make me spill blood on my sister's wedding day, Stranger!"

Finally, a rough, tired, and all to familiar voice answered, "If all goes well, my brother, today will not be Lady Arwen's wedding day."

Elladan dropped his blade. It landed almost silently in a pile of leaves at the Man's feet. He took no notice.

The Man, his back still to Elladan, slowly turned around. More and more of his features became visible as the light from the sun fell upon his face; however the hood he wore still blanketed much of his skin.

But in his heart, Elladan already knew who it was.

Finally the "stranger" completed his half-turn, and now stood facing Elladan. The elf was met with sunken gray eyes that showed evidence of severe lack of sleep, pale lips, and a white, scarred complexion.

"Y-Y….You're dead."

The Man forced a half-heated chuckle that sounded more like choking.

He spoke slowly and gradually in a low tone. "Apparently not."

Elladan's mouth dropped without his knowing of it. He muttered the name only a feather's touch louder than a whisper.

"…….Aragorn."

* * *

Aragorn traveled the feet up to the balcony that he had climbed up to so many times before. So many nights he had silently, carefully guided his hands and feet up the vines and branches from the tree next to her wall up to the third story. The third story was where Arwen's bedroom was located, and his breath caught in his throat to think that he was about to see her again in mere seconds.

Elladan staggered up below him. Unlike Aragorn, never once had he ever approached his sister's room by the vines and stones outside her balcony—he had always preferred the door.

Elladan had wanted to run to his father, or at least his brother Elrohir, when Aragorn had hurriedly told him the truth about Glir. Like Aragorn, Elladan wanted revenge for the betrayal, treachery, and lies.

"_And so Elrohir would want to tell one_," Aragorn had replied. "_And that one would_ desire _to tell one more. Soon enough all of Rivendell would know of my living existence except_ _Glir and Arwen_!"

"_Yes? And what would be the dilemma with this?_"

Aragorn had given him a stern, knowing look, and Elladan had said no more. "_You know,_ _dear friend and brother, that then my plan could not proceed. I need no one else to know_."

Now Aragorn and Elladan climbed the west wall of Arwen's chamber tower, and on this west wall no one but birds and other wildlife could see the Elf and Man climb towards the Lady of Rivendell's west balcony.

Aragorn sighed. Just one more step…one more reach up…

And there she was. His angel. His very reason for living.

Aragorn's breath caught in his throat. Arwen sat in front of her mirror, the very essence of beauty and grace that she always had been. However… something, no, many things were different about her. She sat like a statue, not moving an inch in her seat. She gazed upon her imagein the mirror with a very distant look. Her eyes, once so blue and captivating that she easily made the most beautiful sky look plain, now looked lifeless and… dull. There were dark circles under her dreary eyes—it was obvious she had not been getting any sleep for a very long time. Her skin, once so fair and ivory, was now still just as smooth, but had lost it's glow. Arwen's hair had once been so rich, such a calling to the fingers of his hands to run through, but now beckoned less than the heavy drapes hanging in her room.

What had happened to his Arwen? She looked so depressed, as if the entire world around her had been destroyed. She did not move an inch, and yet the look on her face expressed the worst kind of pain—emotional. Her eyes were closed now; she looked as if she were about to cry. **_What had that Glir done to her!?!_** For of course it could be no one else fault, no one else's but Glir's. When he got his rough, yearning, strong hands around Glir's neck…

All the same, he sighed with relief to see that Arwen was alone. He would be able to talk to her, finally. That is, until he heard a voice-- a hated, despised, sound-- echo underneath her closed door.

"WHERE IS MY BRIDE?!"

He immediately recognized the despicable person as Glir. He had to control himself from not leaping over the balcony and drawing his sword to bring down the villain right then and there. He glanced at Elladan. He could easily see the protective brother was having the same difficulty of remaining silent and still. But no…for their plan to work, Aragorn needed to stay "dead" to everyone, except Arwen. He contented himself to just peer over the ledge, seeing just enough where he was not seen in return.

The loud stomps outside her closed door preceded Glir's arrival, when he threw open the door, marched in, and shut it with a crash behind him. The growling elf was dressed in ceremonial Elvish attire. Aragorn winced in the stab of emotional pain—groom attire. The swirling of darkness in Glir's eyes…Aragorn wondered why he had not picked up on this demon's true nature before anything had happened. He, along with Elladan beside him, watched every move Glir made around Arwen, careful not to miss a step, or a mere shuffle of weight from one foot to another.

The dark shadows in his eyes were matched by the darkness in his tone as he opened his frowning mouth to speak. "My _bride_, Arwen, is _you_." He stared at her through the mirror.

Aragorn closely watched Arwen's reaction. This was it. This would tell him whether his heart had been betrayed so soon after death, or if this was some sort of conjunction of Glir's. He prayed for the latter.

Her opened eyes told him all he needed to know, but her monotone voice as she answered convinced him all the more. "I know this. You do not have to remind me of our upcoming nuptials, Glir."

Aragorn's rush of relief was cut short as he watched Glir march across the room, covering the space between himself and dear Arwen in a matter of seconds. For a moment Aragorn feared Glir might actually strike her.

Glir would die before his his hand was drawn… 

But no, Glir stopped his hurried stomping a hair from Arwen's back. Aragorn released the tight hold he had on his sword's handle—something he hadn't been aware he had been doing. Glir swayed in his sudden spot, either from the unbalance of going from almost running to an abrupt stop, or from the boiling anger evident inside of him.

Glir moved his ten shaking fingers, four of which were decorated with elaborate rings, towards Arwen's shoulders, and positioned them near her collarbone in a curved placement—almost like a choking illusion.

His voice sounded timid, but beneath the even tone a thunderstorm could be heard awakening.

"An…arrangement…you dare to call it, Arwen?"

"This is not a marriage, nor is this a ceremony for a marriage."

Aragorn watched the conversation through unfaltering eyes.

"There is a holy one to conduct the ceremony. There is an audience, and there are decorations. There is a broom waiting to make you his wife. Gods, there are even refreshments for afterwards! Does this not constitute a marriage ceremony?"

"A marriage is about two people loving each other, being in love, and swearing to love each other for the rest of their lives. I gave my love to one, and forever will it be to that one." Arwen turned her upper body in her chair to face Glir, and looked him directly in the eyes. Her voice was full of raw conviction. "I will always love Aragorn, and no other." She turned forward again in her chair, and resumed making eye contact with him through their reflections. "That is why is arrangement could never be a marriage."

Aragorn wanted to spring from his hiding spot to kiss her body with the power and passion of—

"Can you not see—" Arwen gasped and winced again under his hands, as they severely tightened their grips on her shoulders to the point of pain. Aragorn stirred anxiously from his perch, "—that the mention of Aragorn distresses me? Can you not see that I am far better than him, that you will one day come to love me?!"

Aragorn struggled to take in the hint of restriction that Elladan's stern look sent him. He took a deep breath, desperately trying to control his emotions.

He himself almost jumped as Arwen bounded out of her chair, knocking it over, and then faced Glir with a piercing look of rage that could freeze all of Mount Doom from base to peak. "I could never love you!" Aragorn could see her eyes blaze with pure fury, and silently reminded himself never to cross this "timid" elf-maiden.

He looked quickly to Glir, anticipating the elf's reaction. Glir merely cracked a smile at Arwen. "Never say never, Arwen Undomiel. We both know ever is a very long time." He paused momentarily. Sarcasm dripped from his lips as he continued, "Too bad your Aragorn had no idea of it."

Even Aragorn hadn't been expecting Arwen to slap Glir before the elf took another breath. The sound of flesh striking flesh ringed in Aragorn's ears. He now worried that Arwen might have gone to far, but that didn't stop his heart overflowing with pride and love as he listened to Arwen's words. "You arrogant, hideous, conceited, heartless beast!! _You're nothing like Aragorn!!_ _You are dust in his—"_ her voice cracked with emotion, "—would be dust in his eyes! As you are in mine! And you wonder why I could never love you?!! Can you not see that I want _nothing_ to do with you?! _That I hate you?! That I wish in every fiber of my depressive being that you were dead?! You are_—"

He never heard what else Arwen thought Glir was, for he watched, horrified, as Glir's right fist abruptly sent his true love the stone floor.

Had Elladan not been there to hold Aragorn back, this entire tale might have ended differently. Had Elladan not been there to stop Elessar from bounding, sword drawn, into Arwen's room, much of the later history might have been different. As it was,Elladan was still powerless to stop the shout that escaped Aragorn's throat as he struggled against his restrainer. Elladan froze as Glir's head snapped towards the balcony. Even then, Aragorn fought to get inside, to reach Arwen. To comfort her, kiss her, love her unconditionally…

"The plan!" Elladan desperately whispered into Aragorn's ear, silently pleading with him to be quiet and still, while Glir's sharp eyes still lingered in their general area. "Stay true to the plan, Estel!"

Aragorn fought once more in vain, relunctantly settled down, and nodded in defeat. He broke free of Elladan's constricting arms, but remained hidden.

Only after Glir's eyes returned to Arwen did Aragorn's eyes immediately returned to Elladan.

"You have no idea what you just asked of me. You do not know what torture my very being just suffered," he whispered, loud enough for onlyElladan tohear and understand.

Elladan only glanced at him. "Your welcome, Estel."

Aragorn glared at him, then refused to waste another second not looking upon Arwen. His heart broke one thousand times again. She was lying, eyes closed, on the cold, hard floor. Though no tears escaped her, she looked defeated, crushed, vulnerable. _Oh, my dearest love…_

Glir stood above Arwen's limp body, and his chest swelled with satisfaction. He closed his eyes, smiling, and Aragorn wanted to kill him all the more.

"Let me tell _you_ what _you_ are, Arwen. You are a thoughtless, careless elf-maiden, who was once the greatest being to walk Middle-Earth, and now is just a disgrace to her family."

If anything angered Aragorn as much someone physically hurting Arwen, it was someone daring to speak words of dishonor towards her. Both extreme angers he had never experienced until these very five minutes. Elladan's glare reminded him that Glir would not be in the room forever, and soon enough Aragorn would be able to hold her as tightly as they both wanted.

A whisper of firmness crept into Arwen's voice. "_At last_, you recognize the truth… now why don't you _act like you do_?" Glir remained silent. "I wonder. You know that you will never take Aragorn's place in my heart…but to you know that you will also never take his place in my father's heart?"

Aragorn felt love pour out of him, now for the Elf-lord who had become his father. And Elladan—and Elrohir! Both who cared for him like an equal brother. Glir had not only stolen Aragorn away from Arwen, but from his family.

"You're father is no fool. He will forget your pathetic Aragorn in good time."

Arwen's look of pure hatred returned full-force. She braced her upper body up on one arm to look up at him in disgust, her other hand still holding the right side of her face. "Aragorn was my father's third son! He raised him since he was no more than a child! He loved him like his own! How dare you say he will forget him at all?!"

Aragorn watched as Glir knelt down on his hinges till he was eye level with Arwen. Glir smiled with enough arrogance to fill up the Gap of Rohan. He smugly told why he dared to say Elrond would forget Aragorn.

"Because his lovely daughter will be talking non stop about her wonderful husband. He will hear so many wonderful things about me from you, yourself Arwen, that he will not even be able to recall his former "third son's" _name_." Glir straightened himself, and smoothed out a spot on his robe. "The ceremony is starting soon." He paused. "Don't you _dare_ be late, Arwen."

Aragorn forced himself to watch and wait until Glir had left the room before he began to move, but Elladan held him back until the footsteps had receded down the hall. By then, they both could hear Arwen's sobs echoing from her room.

"Aragorn," Elladan muttered. "Go to her. I will follow Glir." He paused again. "Go comfort her."

Aragorn didn't waste another moment. Elladan disappeared over the balcony, gone to trail the elf the rest of Rivendell knew as his future brother-in-law.

Could his heart break anymore that day? Arwen, proud, noble, regal lady of Rivendell and Loftlorien, daughter of Celebrain and Elrond, granddaughter of the Queen Galadriel, and the loveliest, kindest, fairest creature Aragorn had ever met, was crawling on her hands and knees across her own bedroom floor. The sight nearly tore his heart from his chest, and he let out a cry of anguish over her despair. She did not hear it over her own sobs that racked her body, stealing the last of her innocence with every tearful gasp. As he made his way across the vast room, Aragorn felt the hot tears fall upon his cheeks, but he did not bother to wipe them away. What were one thousand of his tears compared to one of hers? Arwen grabbed the bedpost and dragged herself up. Up to her full height, as unbeknownst to her Aragorn was coming ever closer with every quick step, she leaned her pale forehead against the wooden polish of her corner bedpost. Aragorn worried he might collapse before he reached her, or else go blind from the collection of tears in his eyes, but no…oh, the Valar, he was beginning to smell her unique beautiful sent again, which he hadn't smelt in months.

He could not see, but he could hear, and he could smell, and he followed those senses. When he knew he was behind her, Aragorn extended a gentle hand over her mouth to stop any scream of surprise. With his other had he finally wiped the stinging tears from his eyes. Arwen turned in his arm—oh how he had missed those eyes gazing into his own!

Her mouth dropped, her eyes went wider, and her sobs temporarily ceased.

Aragorn cradled her in both of his arms. "_Shhh_…I'm here, my love….shhh… I'm here, I am always with you." He bent his head back, meaning to scream, "Oh, Valar!", but was instead only able to manage a weak cry.

Aragorn kissed her tears away in a hurried motion, yet didn't miss a single droplet. "I love you, Arwen, oh, I love you." Arwen cried even harder, and Aragorn pressed her even closer to his chest. "I love you, my Evenstar."


	22. Thank you, thank you, thank you

**11:16 PM, March 10, 2004**

**I must have cried for every single message wishing me well. Human beings get a bad rep on the news….there is so much good in us too, which is evident through 36 messages left since I left an author's note saying I was sick. I'm some author no one really knows, who writes a story in hopes of some reviews, and I've had such a pleasure doing it for such caring people. In order from first to last, here are my individualized, personalized, thank yous……..**

**Rachel**- Thank you so much for your kind words and your understanding!

Tears of Telperion- I love your alias/name. Thank you, and I'm sorry to know that another person has gone through the nightmare that is illness. I'm glad we both pulled through though! 

**AM**- Thank you very much, and God bless you as well.

**Gionareth**- What a beautiful alias! Thank you! I really appreciated that. :) You were all in my prayers as well!

**Daisy**- *Heehee* My favorite flower! Thank you very much. You all were in my thoughts and prayers, too. Well, I got better! That's a relief. ;) God bless you too! 

**Sunny**- Thank you so much for your very kind words!

**Arwen and Aragorn Forever**- Thank you so much, and you were in my prayers tool!

**The Last Evenstar**- Thank you! I hate to think I would have had to end it because of an illness too. Luckily, I got better!

**Lady Enelya**- Thank you, and God bless you as well! And, SWAB to you too! :)

**justin**- Thank you very much justin! Well, the recovery wasn't speedy unfortunately, but I'm still here regardless. God bless you too!

**Krystyna**- Thanks! I don't know about millions of fans—you're talking about Liv Tyler or Viggo Mortenson right there! But thank you all the same!

**The Converted**- Thank you so much for your very kind words, and God bless you as well!

**LOTR fan :D**- Thank you! WOW! I'm honored that you think so!

**Eleven Kitten**- Thank you very much! Sweetie regardless of how many "get well"s I get, each one is just as dear and treasured as the first one! Namaarie mellonamin! (To be honest, I have no idea what that means, but it sounds really cool!)

**Irish QT**- You were in my prayers too! Oh! What I would give to be an elf!! Excellent idea!

**Cerridwen**- First, I don't know if I've ever told you this, but I LOVE your screen name! :-) Many hugs back! Thank you!

**Alice**- Thanks! I'm so happy you like the story! May the blessings if Iluvatar be with you always too!

**Taraisilwen**- You're right, it's not fun being sick. :( Yep! I wrote that story called "The Long Road Back to Evenstar" It hasn't been abandoned, but I hit writer's bloc—no, writer's avalanche several months ago. Eventually I'll get back to it! I promise! Thanks again!

**Llcatz**- Okay! Mission accomplished! :)

**Melana ;}**- Wow! Thank you! I REALLY, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY  appreciated that! I'm so honored that you like my stories! Thank you again!

**CellarDoor24.18.31.10**- Yea! Go all A/A fans!! OOOOOOOHHHHH….don't worry, he will! *evil grin* Thank you!

**Gemini Enchantress**- Very cool name! Those story ideas bounced around so much they gave me headaches. **:**O Thank you!

**Krystal**- Heehee! I'm very glad you like it! Thank you!

**tess**- Thank you so much for your kind words! I feel very flattered!

**Mery-Jane-** Up. Done. Mission. Accomplished. YES!! :-)

**Anonymous**- Thank you one million times for such sweet, kind, and courteous words. I feel truly humbled. Thank you again!

**Natters**- Thank you Natters! You've been reviewing this story from the very beginning—thanks for holding on! Your SUCH a respected author, it's been so great to know you're reading little-old-me's stories!

**Argorn_Little_Sweet_Heart**- Fear not! As soon as I wasn't sick anymore I was gonna update! I wasn't about to delay!

**Not-A-Glir-Fan A/A forever**- Hey ole buddy! You were in my prayers too! And as to what you said earlier, I'm sorry I didn't mention you before. I always look forward to what you have to say! Plus, yeah, I LOVE YOUR NAME! :-)

**Kate**- Thank you very much for your kind words!

**trista**- Thanks! That means a lot to me! I'm so flattered that you like it!

**carley**- WOW!! Thank you! I feel so honored to hear that!

**b-witched83uk**- Oh. My. Goodness. I swear I had to read who your review was from at least 5 times. I couldn't believe that the respected, admired, goddess of A/A fan fiction had not only read my story, but liked it too! Thank you so much!

**Anamaria Elentari-** Yeah!! Uniqueness is what I strive for! Thank you again!

**ThePrincess04**- Thank you so much for your very kind words!

A final shoutout goes to my dear friend **ME132**. Not only has she been with me since chapter 5, but she was the main one I looked to for confidence when I thought this story was going down the drain. Kayleigh, you're #1 on my list of best friends that I've never met! Love ya girl! I dedicate the rest of this story, that you have shown me through threats where you were half-way teasing, email, countless reviews, and invitations to join prestigious groups that you love this story, I DEDICATE ALL THE REST OF IT TO YOU!!


	23. Chapter 22: I Was Dead

**_The Same Woman_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padme**

**I _Was_ Dead**

Arwen felt completely out of touch with reality. One moment Glir had sent her unprepared body to the hard ground, the next he was whispering evil things in her ear, and now…. Valar, now Aragorn was with her, kissing her and telling her he loved her. She couldn't take it if this was just her imagination— running wild after a stressful encounter with Glir. Accepting that was too good to be true, she found the strength to aggressively push him away. Caught off guard, Aragorn stumbled backwards very ungracefully, wonder and shock mixed upon his wet face.

"Cruel are the gods to make my dreams come true like this!" Arwen shouted desperately, her tears clouding her eyes. "They know I have dreamt and wished and prayed for my dead Aragorn to return to me! Now they insult me by sending an illusion to break my beaten heart all over again!" She collapsed on the floor, her legs finally giving way beneath her.

Aragorn rushed to her level on the ground, kneeling beside her. He was anxious to sooth her unnecessary fears. He acted upon the first idea that materialized in his mind, quickly leaning in to grasp her face with his hands and vigorously pressing his lips against hers in a scorching kiss. By the end of it, both of their lips burned like fire.

Still maintaining hold of her pale cheeks in his gentle, yet firm, hands, Aragorn pulled back enough to look into her wide eyes. _Such pools of beauty..._ "Would an illusion kiss you with such passion? Such ardor? Such _love_?!"

The unwelcome intruder called silence made itself present. Her quietness to his heartfelt pleas troubled him. She only stared at him with an unsettling dazed look upon her face. "Arwen, say something. You must! My frantic heart can't take your stillness much longer!"

As slowly as the sun rises, but just as assuredly, the eerie immobility in Arwen's eyes transformed to awareness. Aragorn let out a sigh of relief, but to Arwen, although some bit of reality had gripped hold of her, this was still somewhat unbelievable. Her beloved had been presumed dead for months, ruthlessly torn away from the world and lost to her heart, and suddenly he returned on the approaching tide of the moment when Glir had struck her and shattered what was left of her heart? Doubt refused to give up residence in her tired soul.

"Y-you…..you _died_," she finally whispered, her voice shaking. "They said you were dead." She tilted her head to the side slightly, the sheer impossibility of it all amazing her.

Aragorn looked at her solemnly. "I _was_ dead."

Arwen closed her eyes and bowed her head in misery as another rush of tears overwhelmed her. So it was true. This form of Aragorn was just a ghost. He had just said it himself, hadn't he?

Then she felt two soft fingers guide her chin up so Arwen was looking into Aragorn's eyes again. "I was dead," Aragorn continued, "but onlybecause I was away from _you_. There is no life when you are not with me. There are many forms of death, dear Arwen. One must not have to stop breathing in order to die."

Arwen blinked away her tears. "I know," she whispered, as she raised her trembling hand to place it on his damp cheek. She began to stroke it tenderly as she spoke quietly. "I know because I have been dead like that as well these past months."

A small smile caressed Aragorn's features. "Then, for you as well as me, we are finally alive again today."

Arwen smiled for the first time then, and the stunning sight nearly had Aragorn loosing his footing underneath himself and falling backwards. "Yes," Arwen responded. "And it is truly wonderful to be alive!"

Aragorn watched, transfixed, as the darkness around her eyes seemed to lift till it was barely there. Her natural rosy color returned to her cheeks, and the twinkle came home again in her eyes, shining more glamorously than all the stars in the sky and mithril in the Dwarf mountains combined.

"Arwen, you truly are the most beautiful woman on our Middle-Earth."

A light shade of red painted Arwen's cheeks. "Beauty is nothing. Love is very much enough."

Suddenly he felt her arms swinging tightly around his neck and tears of joy greet his shoulder, dampening it as she flung herself into his ready arms.

Although her voice was muffled a she spoke, since after all Arwen's face was buried in his shoulder, Aragorn heard her words and hugged her tighter. "Not that it matters, because you are here now, love, but oh! It does matter! Where were you? What power in Middle-Earth caused you to leave me for so long? Without warning? Without any word at all?"

Aragorn sighed. "I merely have to say one word, one…name…and all is answered. But I fear for your reaction. Shall it be of immeasurable sadness? Rage and fury that will alter your kind sprit forever?"

"Tell me, Estel," and Arwen hugged him even closer. "I must know. And I have experienced my two great sadnesses of my time, and it is told that every elf knows two great sadnesses during their existence. My mother has left, gone to the Undying Lands, and then you, my beloved, died, and no sadness will ever match those! And as for anger, do not despair! I have you in my arms—therefore all I know is love and light, not hate and darkness!"

"Arwen…"

She cried loudly into his shoulder, "Estel, I must know. I must! What cruelness kept you out of my arms, and me from yours? What evil separated us, making us experience our own emotional death?"

There was a long pause, a heavy sigh, and then the one word passed through Aragorn's lips meekly.

He felt her entire body tense in his arms. They remained there, on their knees, Aragorn waiting for Arwen to further her reaction. Soon, she pulled back to stare at him.

"_Glir_?" The name passed from her throat like she was being choked. "_Glir_? I knew he was evil, but _this_…." Arwen closed her eyes; all the foul names that her father had taught her never to speak were running through her mind like Rohan horses in a stampede.

She turned her hand to the side and dropped her arms; they no longer clung tightly to his arms, insteadhung weakly at her sides. She pressed her lips together and shut her eyes for a long time. Aragorn anxiously waited for her reaction. He knew he had received it when two single tears escaped from her closed eyes, one from each lid. Those two tears, which glittered in the light like falling jewels, pained him more than all the ones he had watched drop earlier that day. Like waves of sorrow, ache spread throughout his body, ending up in his heart with a gut-wrenching SPLASH! Arwen's sadness was never something he was able to cope with. He grasped for something to bring any sense of tranquility to her.

Angels should never cry.

"Arwen, I am going to fight him." He paused, swearing this oath to both himself and to Arwen. "To the death…and my love, not even you can prevent me."


	24. Chapter 23: The Pain of Lying

**_The Same Woman_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padme**

**The Pain of Lying**

A half hour later, a soft knock came to Arwen's door, and both Aragorn's and Arwen's head snapped in the direction the sound of the intrusion had come from.

As Aragorn searched for a place to hide, Arwen forced her voice to sound calm and placid as she called out, "Who is it?"

An elegant voice answered, "Your father wishes to speak with you. Are you proper for me to come in, daughter?"

Both the couple's eyes went wide. _Elrond!_

"Wait!" Arwen anxiously called. "Wait a moment, father! My garments are not in order yet," she lied. "Give me a moment to finish hastily!"

Aragorn hurried over to her, and his voice was low and quiet as he spoke, but despite the volume, apprehensiveness was very apparent in his voice. "Remember the plan, dear Arwen! He mustn't know I'm alive!"

Arwen wrung her hands frantically. "What do I say?! What do I tell him?!"

"Arwen? Are you alright in there?"

Aragorn firmly took her hands in his own, stopping her wild wringing of them. "Act as you would towards him had you not known I was alive. Talk with him as if I hadn't come back to you a short while ago!" He moved his hands to grip her face strongly. "Arwen, _he must not know_!"

She nodded her head nervously, but a sense of calm was coming to her with his sturdy words.

Aragorn decided to retreat to his first hiding place, the one just over the balcony. Arwen straightened her clothes—they had become slightly ruffled from being pressed hard up against Aragorn. Even as he had spent the last half hour telling her earnestly about his clever plan, he had held her tightly to him.

With a short glance to her left, Arwen saw that Aragorn was safely hidden.

_Aragorn's dead. Your childhood friend has utterly betrayed you. Your own father wouldn't listen to you when you plead to him before this day to stop the wedding._

She positioned herself farthest from any of the fire-lamps. She didn't want her father to see the bruise on her cheek from Glir's punch. That would bring too many unwanted questions.

Her voice was a dead calm. "Enter."

The door creaked open, and her father emerged from behind it. He closed it behind him as he stepped forward.

He looked around the room, his eyes darting to the corners. "Is… was there anyone here with you? I thought I heard talking."

"No, nothing." She paused. "I am completely alone." He didn't miss the double meaning in her last comment.

They stood in the center of the room… the silence screaming in their ears.

He seemed to search for something to say. "You are… almost ready?"

She let her chin drop a little. "I will never be _ready_ to betray Aragorn. I will never be _ready_ to marry Glir."

"Within a short time he will be your husband. He respects you, you will owe the same to him."

Arwen wanted to step into the light and scream,_ Is this evidence of how much he respects me?!!_

"To ask me to respect Glir is like asking me to respect an orc. Something so vile, so cruel, can never earn respect."

He raised his thin eyebrows. "He has my respect."

"Glir should know that our respect does not come hand-in-hand. Just because he has yours, does not mean that he has mine. He knows this."

"Yes, and I can see that it causes him agony."

Arwen resisted the urge to yell. Appearing emotionless through her monotone voice, she replied, "Well, you see some things about Glir, I see others about him."

Elrond took a few steps toward her. "Arwen, I did not come here to fight with you. I came to inform you that the ceremony is starting very soon." He tried to offer a smile. "The wedding can't start without the bride."

_Aragorn's dead. Your childhood friend has utterly betrayed you. Your own father wouldn't listen to you when you plead to him before this day to stop the wedding._

Anger flashed in Arwen's eyes. She obviously didn't appreciate the joke. "I'm going through with this wedding, but this facade will _never_ be a marriage. It is imprisonment!! Nothing more than that!!"

Elrond stepped back, hurt. He sighed deeply before replying, "Perhaps… your hostile attitude is just the jitters before the wedding.Much has been going on." Elrond closed his eyes and raised his hand to wipe his worrying brow. "You… you must miss your mother very much at a time like this, Arwen. A maiden getting married… her mother should be here, helping her get ready."

_Aragorn's dead. Your childhood friend has utterly betrayed you. Your own father wouldn't listen to you when you plead to him before this day to stop the wedding._

"You killed me this day." Her gaze cut through him like a knife. "Remember that… father."

A frown of despair creased his features. "Arwen—"

"I wish to be alone."

"You ca—'

Her scream echoed off the stonewalls, "_I wish to be alone!_"

The silence that ensued tempted Arwen's acting resolve, as Elrond stared at her solemnly. His daughter had never raised his voice to him before.

_Remember, Aragorn's dead. Your childhood friend has utterly betrayed you. Your own father wouldn't listen to you when you plead to him before this day to stop the wedding. Aragorn, Estel… dead._

Sudden tears threatened to boil over. "GET OUT!"

Elrond gazed at her for one more brief moment, and then turned swiftly. The door closed behind him with a soft click.

A strange look came over Arwen's face—Aragorn noticed it as he approached her. Concern was evident on every line of his face.

"Are you alright?" She suddenly blinked several times, as if coming out of a trance, and then nodded her head quickly. He paused for a moment before continuing. "I never knew you were such a good actress, Arwen. You had me almost believing you several times…. especially with those tears. They looked real."

A small gasp escaped her lips softly. Her voice was monotone. "They _were _real." Her lips trembled. "I-I just remembered what it felt like to know that you were dead. To feel so alone." Her sad eyes lifted to meet his. "The feeling is, after all, still very fresh in my memory."

Aragorn came forward to wrap his arms around Arwen.

She grasped him with painful tightness, throwing her face into his warm shoulder. "Glir has him wrapped around his little finger so tightly he doesn't even know it!" A short whimper of despair was torn from her.

Aragorn held her closely as she cried.


	25. Chapter 24: And So It Begins

**_The Same Woman_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padme**

**And So It Begins**

The quick pattern of light footsteps echoed softly throughout the opulent hallways. The marble statues of ones wise and regal, located occasionally along the pathway, stared with infinite silence at the passerby.

Carangell hurried past the elegantly carved walls and still statues. She was a lady of _the _Lady— the graceful Arwen Undomiel. Carangell had been summoned by Lord Elrond to at last fetch his daughter to her wedding.

A small frown creased Carangell's forehead. She worried about her mistress. She had heard Lady Arwen crying herself to sleep too many times in the past weeks to have any blissful feelings about this pending marriage. However, her place was to offer advice only when it was asked, and to support her mistress and friend. She would keep her mouth shut about the endless hours of crying during the night.

Finally, Carangell reached the main door to Lady Arwen's chambers. As she stopped briskly, the hem of her long, deep blue Elvish robes flew around her feet swiftly, tickling her ankles. She raised a hand to tap on Arwen's door, but the second before the thick wood made contact with her fair skin, she found herself being caressed by a soft, brief breeze as the door was rushed open.

Lady Arwen stood tall and fair in the doorway, her black tresses framing her face beautifully.

After a moment of surprise, Carangell timidly asked the elf-maiden in front of her, "Are you… prepared, my lady?"

Arwen's white robes lay in puddles around her feet. As she stepped forward with a nod, indicating with her actions that she was ready to go, ripples spread throughout the puddles of soft fabric.

At first they walked in complete silence down the hallway— only the sound of their shoes continuously meeting the floor met their ears. Carangell searched for something to say… but what do you say to a woman who is on her way to be wed?

_Her mother should be with her right now, not I. Her mother should have her comforting arm around her daughter's shoulder, or have her fingers entwined with the fingers of Arwen. She should be whispering soothing words into her only daughter's ear, calming any nervous worries, and placing loving kisses on Arwen's cheek. Instead she is with a quiet servant, surrounded in an awkward silence._

"I am sorry your dear mother could not be here. I'm sure she would be doing a better job of escorting you to your wedding than myself."

Arwen offered her handmaiden a small smile of reassurance. "Thank you, Carangell. Do not worry, dear friend." Her voice sounded lifeless and monotone even to Arwen—no doubt Cerridwen had picked up on it.

The red-headed girl walking beside her swallowed, unsure if what she was about to say was the right or wrong thing. "I know your mother would be very proud of you, if I may say so, my lady."

Whatever Carangell suddenly saw on her Lady's face was instantly hidden as soon as it had started to form—however, as small as it was before it was buried under a serene face, Carangell could have sworn she saw a genuine smile.

There was a new air in Lady Arwen's tone as she spoke, as if she held in her voice the feeling of one who knew a wonderful secret that they would not share. "Oh, Carangell, I do believe that my mother would be very proud of what I am going to do this day. I believe she would be proud of me and my future actions."

This time Arwen was careful to only let her eyes smile, instead of her plush lips, as she observed the look of puzzlement on Carangell's face with amusement. "It will be a day to remember, I promise you." Her eyes danced for a few more moments until Arwen forced herself to look calm and peaceful.

Carangell would have unconsciously dropped her mouth in confused wonderment if centuries of manners and propriety had not practically removed the instinct from her. Her eyes blinked several times, and she moved her stare forwards as she continued to walk, an obvious frown upon her brow.

The corner of Arwen's right cheek tugged on her lips as she suppressed the urge to smile.

In time they reached a moderately sized room, which was located just before the Great Hall. The wedding would occur in the expansive Great Hall, but this room, which was one of many that led into the festive chamber, was for Arwen to wait in temporarily.

With a respectful bow Carangell left her, and proceeded to enter the chamber. The servant was careful to only open the door wide enough for her body to get through—it was tradition for the guests to not see the bride until the actual ceremony began. Although Arwen was able to see some of the guests—who were elaborately dressed for the occasion—none were able to noticed her in the time it took for Carangell to open the door, pass through it, and close it behind her.

Arwen had only a moment to collect her thoughts before the door was opening again. This time her tall, regal father entered. She watched him silently as he closed the door behind him. Arwen was very careful to control her outward attitude. Aragorn had explained very well exactly how she should be acting.

Her voice was smooth and calm as she said, "I am here, Father. How soon is the ceremony to start?"

Lord Elrond regarded her for a long time. His clasped hands, folded together in front of him, remained still. After much time had passed, she raised an eyebrow questionably. Finally, he replied, "I am surprised, Arwen. No angry outbursts? No rash insults or accusations?"

She swallowed. "Time changes many things."

Now he raised an eyebrow—she had inherited the characteristic from _him _after all. "Am I to believe that you reversed your entire outlook on this marriage in the time span of half an hour? Regardless of the press for time, I gave you much time after speaking with you to settle your thoughts before the ceremony… but not enough time to—"

"Do you wish for this marriage, Father?"

He sighed. "I wish for your happiness, Arwen. I always have."

"Do you wish for this marriage?"

He hesitated before he answered. "I wish to see you happy, and yes, I believe this marriage will bring you happiness."

A smile caressed Arwen's features. "Then what are we waiting for?"

And without a word, she gathered her jeweled robes in her hands and headed for the door. As she near him she slowed, but she only paused briefly by her father side to place a loving kiss on his cheek. As Arwen continued to move towards the door, she called over her shoulder, "Let the anticipated wedding of Lady Arwen Undomiel begin."

Lord Elrond sighed heavily as she opened and passed through the door. She didn't hear him answer her in a quiet voice, "May the Valar aid us." With one more pause, he turned and followed her into the enormous, decorated chamber.

Amongst the guests, who were sitting anxiously in their wooden chairs, a great clatter arose as the word traveled—Lady Arwen was at the far corner of the huge Great Hall. The ceremony was going to begin at any moment.

On the opposite end of the Great Hall from Arwen, as he heard the spreading news, Glir allowed one very smug smile to show through his seemingly timid demeanor.

Only a rugged man, hidden behind and peeking through expansive curtains on a balcony above, noticed this true display of Glir's nature.

The hidden man tightened his grip on his unleashed sword.


	26. Chapter 25: Pretending and Presumptions

**_The Same Woman_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padme**

**Pretending and Presumptions**

The music was beginning. The train of her dress was being lifted. Her heart started beating faster. 

Arwen stepped forward, taking her first step down the wedding isle, with a timid smile plastered to her face. She heard gasps and other little exclamations of awe from the guests as they watched her proceed gracefully in front of them. "Beautiful," many murmured—"extravagant" was heard many times, and once she heard a young girl say as she passed by, "she looks like a dream!".

Mentally, Arwen sighed. Evidently she looked beautiful to everyone—well, la dee dee dah! They had no idea of the true character of the "handsome knight" she was approaching! What grounds did they have, to be so happy and blissful? Why should Arwen care if she looked like a dream? Her dreams had haunted her the past few months!

Suddenly, Arwen noticed that she had unintentionally come to a stop right in the middle of the isle. Pink stained her cheeks. Luckily, the beginning of the awkward stares had only just started. She smoothly tried to continue her procession as if nothing had happened. She hoped that those who had not noticed her temporary pause would think the color on her cheeks was due to excitement.

As soon as she took her _second_ "first" step down the wedding isle, the warm thought abruptly entered her mind. There was one person in this room whose thoughts about her beauty she actually did care about. On several dozen occasions he had told her that her beauty was unmatchable, and still her heart fluttered every time, as if she were hearing him say it for the first time all over again.

_Aragorn..._

Her heart sang the wonderful name. _Aragorn..._

She had to concentrate to continue walking, and to not stop right there and swoon.

He was watching her right now—his entire focus was centered on her moving body. She could practically feel his eyes on her. And still, Arwen had no idea where he truly was. She knew that he was above her, hidden somewhere in the several balconies. She imagined him gripping his trusty sword right now, and, Aragorn being as overprotective of her as he was, he was probably keeping an anxious eye out for any trouble.

_Valar, I love him._

She don't know where she came up with the idea, she only knew that it seemed like something that she wanted to do. She knew in her heart that one day she would be walking down the wedding isle again, but for real. Just the thought brought a lovely smile to her face. She would be walking towards Aragorn, to become his wife in the eyes of the Valar.... and finally in the eyes of her father. So, knowing this, Arwen decided to... _pretend...._

She hoped her smile didn't look too mischievous to onlookers.

Arwen saw Glir in front of her, coming closer with every step, and she attempted to and succeeded in putting his smug face out of her mind. Instead she saw her Aragorn—

_My Aragorn..._

— standing before her, his warm, loving smile beckoning her to come to him. His brown hair, the color of rich soil, was, for once, clean and looked soft to the touch. There were no dirt marks on his fingers, his cheeks were shaven and smooth... but it was his eyes that called her attention relentlessly.

They were so warm, so loving. His two pools swirled with love, devotion, and awe. She only cared if _he_ thought she was beautiful, and although his eyes told her he thought she was stunning, she found herself putting that knowledge aside. Physical beauty was such an external thing about a person. Yes, Aragorn was dazzling, attractive, dashing... but she loved him for his internal beauty. And it felt wonderful for Arwen to know that she was loved the same in return.

Her feet felt light, her face was beaming, and everything was perfect. She was a few feet away from Estel, and soon she would become his wife. He was walking towards her now, extending his hand. She remembered how their hands fit perfectly in one another, and soon she'd be holding him once again, palm with palm.

Smiling beautifully, she eagerly extended her hand in return, with nothing but love shining in her eyes.

* * *

Surprised, and taken aback by the obvious emotions swirling in Arwen's eyes, a dark figure frowned with confusion and.... was that hurt? Even from his position in the balconies high above, he could see the strong love in the maiden's eyes as she looked upon Glir just as clearly as the rest of the guests.

He swallowed nervously.

_What's going on here?_

Aragorn silently searched for an answer, but none came.


	27. Chapter 26: Wedding Bliss

My Elvish is still shaky—I'm working on it. For the Elvish translations, look at the bottom of the page.

* * *

**_The Same Woman_ **

By Rose-Arwen-Padme

Wedding Bliss

Arwen quickened her pace, eager to reach the smiling Aragorn in front of her, and the little girls holding the back of her train up hurried to keep up with her. Her cheeks were straining as her smile grew larger and larger. She was onlyfocused on Aragorn, and the hand that he had extended towards her.

She gracefully swept a loose strand of silky, dark hair from her face. As she neared him, she extended her hand towards his.

She couldn't wait to feel his callused skin against her own. It seemed like so long since she had touched him!

_I'm going to marry Estel today! I shall truly be his lady, and he my lord!  
_  
Her step faltered as her hand and his grasped one another.

It wasn't his skin. It wasn't his touch.

"Arwen?"

It wasn't his voice.

It wasn't Aragorn.

Her vision seemed to clear and to blur at the same time—but one thing was for certain, she suddenly realized. Aragorn was not in front of her, giving her a look filled with question, confusion, and some annoyance. It was Glir.

She had _imagined_ the man she had truly wanted to see; the clean, brown hair; the shaven, smooth cheeks—not that Glir was unshaven, it's just that those weren't Aragorn's cheeks that she had nuzzled in several times before. But worst of all, she had _imagined_ the eyes! Those beacons of love and worship, those pools that she lost herself in countless times... all were a figure of her apparently very active imagination.

"Arwen?"

_Valar!_ She immediately plastered a smile back on her face, though she knew it couldn't possibly be anything like the one she had proudly worn a moment ago. She only lost her grip on herself for one more briefmoment. Her eyes flashed up to meet Glir's.

"Yes," she nodded, "I am fine. I suppose I was just overcome briefly by the endless amounts of perfume put in my hair." She prayed he would believe the bad lie. "Too many herbs."

She never thought he would be dense enough to believe it, but evidently he was. With a short nod, he looked over her shoulder. "Ahh, you have forgot something, Arwen."

Arwen's head darted to look in the direction Glir was implying. There, a few feet away, her father stood expectantly.

In her rush to get to "Aragorn", Arwen had forgotten Elvish wedding traditions! She was supposed to go to her father before her groom, so that she might receive a formal blessing and the short ceremony of a father giving his daughter away.

"Oh," she stuttered, and she blushed madly.

Glir beamed as he turned to the guests seated in front of them, and he exclaimed proudly, "It seems my bride was so excited to be marrying me, she lost her head for a moment!"

The pleased laughter from around the room echoed throughout the hall and in Arwen's ears.

Glir came to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Evidently," he continued to the crowd, "True love does blind the lover—literally!"

The guests sang with laughter once more.

Arwen wanted to smack him—or even better, run him through with a sword.

She offered a wide smile, and forced herself to reply, "What can I say? I am anxious to be married."

_Married to Aragorn, you slimy orc._

'Slime' was a slang term that she had picked up from Aragorn's influences. She had never wanted to use the name, calling it vulgar and barbaric. Now she was proud to use it.

She gave the balconies above her a few short glances. There was no doubt Aragorn could see her face right now, and he knew her well enough to know what was going on in her head. _He's probably smiling right now..._ Arwen thought to herself with mock anger, which overlined her true amusement.

Arwenhad no idea that Aragorn was in fact trying to decrease the sound of his chuckle as much as possible.

"Then let us not delay the maiden any longer!" Glir returned to his position by the holy man, after literally giving Arwen a push towards her father. Luckily, the wide wedding gown hid her slight stumble.

The crowd of onlookers quieted into arespectful silence, and Arwen watched her father approach her. All smiles had vanished as father and daughter looked solemnly upon each other.

Following tradition, they both did as expected. First, Arwen curtsied low to her father, signifying his authoritative role in her life. She leaned forward to take his right hand, and brought itto her lips briefly. She kissed it once before letting go.

"Ada," she asked, timidly. "Lothron im gar galu?" Half of Arwen wanted him to say no.

Elrond paused before he answered, taking the time to lightly brush his fingers across Arwen's cheek. Arwen sighed as she leaned into his hand. She remembered her father stroking her like this as she fell asleep when she was a child. The soothing motion brought up memories of bedtime stories and fond kisses good-night on the cheek "Garnin galu, elleth, iell."

As Arwen offered a timid smile, he leaned forward now, and placed a long, stationary kiss on her forehead, signifying a father's last act of love as the biggest male influence in her life. Afterwards, he stepped back from her and bowed low before her, signifying his silent proclamation of her as a woman, independent, and free to make her own choices. She was no longer a young maiden, but a mature woman.

Now, Glir approached the father and daughter. "Einior," he said, bowing respectively. As he rose, he centered on Arwen. Arwen turned towards her "dashing" groom and placed her hand in his extended palm. He pulled her closer to the holy man as Lord Elrond stepped away.

"Meleth," the holy man started. "Meleth has brought us to this place, and it has brought these two to this moment. It is eternal, it is wonderful, and it is a home in their hearts."

Arwen forced herself not to roll her eyes.

"Ever is thy sight a joy. Glir, son of Egerlio and Irenil of Rivendell, a mighty warrior, has chosen noble Lady Arwen Undomiel, daughter of Lord Elrond Peredhil Half-elven and Celebrían, Evenstar, Elelómë the Fair, Princess of her Elven people, to be his wife. Before this beautiful union commences, if someone, with good cause, reason, and sense, has a reason stating why these two should not be wed, let them speak with volume and wisdom."

Silence met the request.

Thinking no more about it, the aged holy man continued, "Well, if none—"

The voice broke through the holy man's word loud and crisp, as if the speaker had been waiting to say the words forever. Their voice rang through the great hall and echoed.

"_I _object."

As the words died on the source's lips, everyone turned to stare at the speaker in absolute shock.

* * *

"Father," "May I have (your) blessings?" 

"You have my blessing, elf-maiden, daughter."

"Elder,"

"Love,"


	28. Chapter 27: The Oncoming Tide

**_The Same Woman_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padme**

**The Oncoming Tide**

You could have heard a feather fall.

The moment before the loud murmurings and anxious whispers began, silence enveloped the Great Hall. A blind man would have thought it was empty.

But within moments, a surging wave dashed into the huge room, beginning with it the voices of the surprised guests. They didn't even pretend to try and hush they're gossiping.

"What the Valar is going on?"

"Was Lord Elrond expecting this?"

"Why now? Why not before?"

"This goes against any form of etiquette."

But Arwen didn't care; she paid no attention to the whispers that floated around her pointed ears.

"I object," she repeated, her voice soft and calm, although some could detect a sense of urgency hidden within her tone.

Arwen knew she would treasure the stunned look on Glir's face forever.

"Ah, _my love_, is something wrong?" For sake of show, he tried to smile calmly at her, yet Arwen could see the sharp daggers in his eyes.

Elrond stepped forward, looking back and forth between his daughter and Glir. "Arwen?" he asked hesitantly.

After praying her words would not tremble as she spoke, Arwen made her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "It is of the greatest importance that I speak to my dear groom in private. A matter I had hoped could be delayed must be discussed." Her eyes swept the room. "I apologize for doing this now, but unfortunately it could not be helped." To finish it off, Arwen stepped closer to Glir, and ran a smooth hand across his cheek lovingly. Her voice no longer echoed around the room, but anyone close could hear her say to Glir, "Don't worry, love. You needn't worry. You will love to hear what I have to say…"

Glir's chest puffed out immediately as he noticed the obvious change in Arwen's attitude in comparison to her behavior in the previous months. His genuine smile grew. "Well then! Let the lady whisk thyself away!" He took her hand firmly, and led her down the isle. "Friends, guests, we shall return!"

Arwen barely managed to keep up with his excited pace. All the while, words and phrases that she had practiced with Aragorn earlier ran through her head randomly, out of order. Desperately, she mentally tried to grasp them and get them in line before they reached their intended secluded spot.

"The Amdir Garden!" she murmured loudly to the elf yanking her down the isle. Because there were so many different gardens in Rivendell, and some belong specifically to certain people, almost every one had been named. "We should go to the Amdir garden to speak!"

She could see a faint nod as her answer, and eventually Arwen found herself following the path towards the isolated spot.

Far behind the departing Arwen, Lord Elrond still stood at the wedding altar, a dazed look upon his face.

"The Valar seem fit to tease me this day," he murmured.

He turned as a large hand placed itself on his back. It was his son, Elladan. "Father," the twin whispered urgently. "You must follow me! Quickly!"

Feeling the rising tide of confusion start to flood over his mind, Elrond sighed and followed his son without question.

_This day has been a stream of surprises,_ the Lord thought half-heartedly to himself.

He had no idea that the day had only just begun…

… and that the stream was about to turn into a raging river.


	29. Chapter 28: Admir Garden

**_The Same Woman_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padme**

**Admir Garden**

The bright sunlight assaulted Arwen's eyes the moment she stepped out from underneath the arched doorway and into the Admir Garden. She had been inside all day—the last time she had been outdoors was the day before. If he noticed, Glir didn't give her time to let her vision adjust.

"Well, Arwen, you seem full of surprises," he said finally as he let go of her hand and turned to face her. They had stopped between two rows of tall hedges, each thick row towering at least eight feet high— exactly where Arwen had wanted.

She offered an amused smile. "I am full of surprises. I suppose it is something you will have to get used to during our marriage. I hope you do not mind."

He cocked an eyebrow.

"_Marriage_, Lady Arwen? Was it not too long ago when you swore that this ceremony was nothing short of an 'arrangement'?"

She took a step closer to him, a smile playing on her lips. "No, dear Glir, _you _called it an arrangement, after I referred to it as 'our upcoming nuptials'. Besides, didn't you also say that I would one day come to love you?"

In shock, he took a step back.

Her smile grew wider. "It appears you did not think that the day would be today."

He shrugged slightly, and sarcastically replied, "Because it happens to be the same day that you declared your hatred of me." As he finished, a dark cloud seemed to cover his eyes as he remembered her lashing out at him earlier.

Arwen sighed, closing her eyes tightly. Silence hung between them like a thick blanket.

"It is true. The opposite of hate is love… and it appears that I have shown both emotions in one single day." She paused. "In fact, if you believe… _so much_, in the fact that I couldn't possibly love you in this moment… I will not burden you anymore with my words. I will follow you without argument into the Grand Hall."

She watched him carefully. Glir seemed to be over-dramatic as he crossed his arms and looked to the earth. She knew him well enough to know what he was doing. He was appearing to think about it, appearing to hesitate—when in fact he was merely trying to build suspense and tension inside of her. He had already made his decision, and now he was just trying to make her anxious.

_He thinks I really care about what his answer will be, _she mused. _He's as gullible as an orc._

After several moments, his head darted up. "Very well, I am listening."

She pretended to offer a relieved smile and sigh. "Thank you," she answered breathlessly.

"Continue, Arwen."

If she hadn't been playing this game, she would have reprimanded him for stiffly giving her an order.

"Yes, well, I had much time to think after your… _visit…_with me. Then, later, my father came to me. He helped me to make sense of things. He helped me come out of this black void I have been living in these past months. It was as if the light of the Valar shown on me, for the first time in years."

Curious, Glir asked, "Years? Don't you mean months?"

She took a step in his direction. "No, I do mean years— long, blurry, _years_. I saw things clearly, for the first time since… since before Aragorn came into my life." The expression on Glir's face was priceless. "Let me continue. Aragorn told me things about the ways of Man… things that seemed too foreign and strange to me. Over time, I let myself believe, rather foolishly, that what he told me was normal, and could co-exist with the ways of the Elves. I thought he had been raised by the Elves, so, how could he really be that different?" Her eyes fell. "But he was. He wasn't an Elf, and therefore, we never truly could have co-existed in any relationship. I should have seen that on my own, from the beginning. However, my father told me things—he told me about things Aragorn had said and done. Lies, deceit, creating mistrust… those were Aragorn's true ways. Aragorn had played me and lied to me. My dear father had only been trying not to hurt me by not telling me before. He trusted that I would figure it out on my own. He never realized it had gone so far." She raised her eyes to look at him. "You were wrong; my father is not a fool. Oh, but Glir, I was also wrong; Aragorn was no 'third son' to my father. Both were actors—one to hurt and play me, the other to protect and trust me to work out my own differences. I thank the Valar I have my father… and that I have you."

"I-I-I…" he sighed. "I'm still confused."

He smile stretched across her face. "In my time to think, all the barriers of my mind disappeared. I realized that I had this dashing," she placed a hand on his cheek, her eyes locked on his, "amazing, wonderful, intelligent Elf lord here, _with me_. One who pursued me relentlessly, and who was my perfect match in everyway." Somehow, she managed tears of 'happiness' to appear in her eyes. "When I pushed at you, you pushed back. When I rejected you, you held firm. I was in a drowning void these past months, and you stayed by my miserable side the entire time!" She ran her fingers through his hair. "Those actions could only be movements of love." Her sweet voice was soft. "And I was a fool to fall for Aragorn's words and tricks, but I would be more of a fool to not see you in all your glory, and fall for _you_."

Glir's smile was so large, she wondered briefly if he was in pain from the strain on his cheeks. Before he was able to lean forward and kiss her, Arwen rushed forward to embrace him, securing her face on his right shoulder, beside his face—inside of directly in front of it. His arms automatically wrapped themselves around her frame. Her delicate body moved each time a joyful chuckle escaped from his chest.

"You have made me the happiest creature in all Middle-Earth!" he cried. She winced—his booming voice was too close to her ear. After a few moments of a tight embrace—much too tight for Arwen's liking— Glir asked, "But Arwen, dear, why now? Why bring me this knowledge—as wonderful as it is—to me in the middle of our wedding?"

Arwen's voice was muffled, as her mouth was still just above his shoulder, but he understood her when she replied, "I couldn't have you recite your sacred vows thinking that the relationship was only one-sided. I couldn't bear to think that you would listen to my earnest vows, and think that I didn't mean it. I want our very first moment of marriage to be filled with beauty and truth… not misjudged notions of lies and suspicion."

She received her response when he hugged her too him even more., but the mischievous smile shown before she continued was one that the actress let slip through. Glir had no idea, as her face was not in his sight.

_Time to lay the bait, _she schemed.

"Glir, my love? Do you think that the spirit of that lying Aragorn is looking down upon us now? Watching us bask in our happiness? Observing that, regardless of how he kept us apart for too long, we have found each other?"

"Oh, I hope so, dear Arwen. He deserves it, for all the lies he told to you."

Arwen bit her lip. "I'm glad he has passed."

Glir pulled her back so that he could look into her eyes. "Glad? That is very uncharacteristic of you…"

She quickly dropped her eyes. "I chose the wrong words in expressing myself. I am not _glad_ that a creature of Middle-Earth died… I only feel a level of contentment. He can no longer bother us. He can no longer lie to me. We can never again suffer any grief of his doing. He caused me great pain, Glir." Her eyes rose to meet his. In a shaky voice, she whispered, "I wish I could thank the person who brought about his demise." She paused briefly. "They also brought about our mutual happiness."

Glir's eyes flickered.


	30. Chapter 29: Glir's Wedding Present

**_The Same Woman_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padmé**

**Glir's Wedding Present**

It wasn't a trick of the sunlight. Arwen knew she had seen a dangerous flick in the depths of Glir's eyes.

His voice was low and hesitant. "You would be… grateful, my Arwen?"

She nodded, silently praying that her eyes wouldn't give any secrets away. "Until the day I die. For eternity."

His cheeks pulled on his lips, tugging on a smile. "Arwen… would you mind if I gave you your wedding present… a tad bit early?"

Innocently, she replied, "No, Glir, not at all." Arwen hoped she appeared excited. She held her breath, eagerly anticipating what was to come.

Slowly, he reached out, and his hands shaped her shoulders. Attentively, he pulled her nearer to him. Unfortunately, she watched as he started to say something, and then suddenly stopped himself. This wasn't the same show as earlier. He was truly hesitating about telling her something. The same thing happened twice more.

Intent on getting the desperately needing information out of him, Arwen leaned forward with heavy eyes and whispered, "Just remember _my _wedding gift to you… my gift that I shall give this night… _this wedding night_…"

She'd done it. His reaction was immediate, and just want she had wanted. "Arwen," he started.

"Yes?"

"I-I know the identity of the one who caused Aragorn's death. I know…"

"Yes?"

"Arwen,"

"_Yes?_"

"Come closer. Let me whisper it into your ear."

Immediately she obliged. "Tell me who brought us our present happiness, Glir!"

A pause. A heartbeat. "It was _me_."

As her smile spread, her eyes closed. A wave of much anticipated relief washed over her.

"I hired a solicited group of Elves to ambush him. They attacked and killed him, here in Rivendell. Don't worry; I paid them well for it." He leaned in closer to her pointed ear. "Do you like your wedding present, My Lady?" He saw and felt her nod slowly.

Suddenly, without a word, Arwen turned briskly in the opposite direction, and walked several feet away from him. Glir watched her with building concern. As she turned, the look on her face was more than enough to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. "Arwen?"

Her voice was obviously different—besides being loud, it was now deeper, much darker, and sounded incredibly satisfied. "Elladan, you can bring Father out now."

Arwen watched Glir as the hedge on his left side started to move. She had never seen someone's face pale so quickly. With each sound of approaching footsteps, his face seemed to get whiter and whiter. A moment later, Elladan, followed by a stone-faced Lord Elrond, rounded the hedge-bend, coming into sight. She watched her father's reaction with pride as Elledan came to stand next to her.

Elrond slowly, but still menacingly, stalked towards Glir. Glir, in the state of shock that he was in, could only open and close his mouth without successfully producing any sound at all. "_You_…" Elrond's low voice boomed. If they had been in the library, his voice would have echoed all over the room. "_You_… I bring you into my home. I offer you support. I offer you shelter and food. I offer you a place in my heart." His brow furred together as his anger grew. "I offered you my _daughter_! My _only_ daughter!" Glir almost stumbled to the ground as he backed away in fright, but managed to catch himself at the last moment. "You conspired to kill my 'third'," he shot an approving look at Arwen, "son! You try to tear our household apart!" His voice shook with rage as he bellowed, "You made my daughter _weep_ for months without end! You stole her light from us for months! You made her grieve needlessly! _AND THE WHOLE TIME I SUPPORTED YOU! I TOLD HER TO MARRY YOU!!"_

Glir eyed Elrond's clenched fists wearily. However, he wasn't worried that Elrond would punch him—he feared what Elven magic the Elf Lord could call upon from the Valar to punish him. It was known, however solemn he usually was, that Lord Elrond's power of wrath equaled his power of healing.

"W-w-w," Glir stuttered uncontrollably. Arwen took this opportunity to step forward.

"Elledan knew, as I did, of your treachery. We both learned of it just within an hour of the wedding's beginning. We knew I had to get you somewhere private, make you think that we were alone, while in fact, my brother brought my father, hidden out of sight, to listen to our conversation—AND YOUR CONFESSION!!" She crossed her arms, smiling with all the hate she could muster at him. "And you fell into the hole just as easily as I knew you would." She looked on the verge of laughing of hysteria. "You are so predictable, Glir. Your ego, matched with your gullibility, has brought you to this moment."

"H-how?! H-how could you p-possibly?!"

Arwen's eyes narrowed. "How could we possibly know?" Glir watched as her eyesight moved to something behind him. "Perhaps _he_ can tell you."

Glir froze. There was only one person in the world who could really know what happened… but it couldn't be true. He'd specifically ordered the assassins to make sure _he_ was dead!

Each second seemed to last an hour, as Glir turned to face the direction Arwen was looking.

The husky voice rumbled in a low tone, and brought a small smile to Arwen's lips.

"_I_ told them."

Glir watched as the tall, roughish Aragorn Elessar gripped his sword's handle and slowly unsheathed it. It glimmered in the sun's rays, momentarily catching the strong sunlight and blinding the Elf.

"If you're going to kill a man, make sure he is dead." His eyes were daggers, his stare as sharp as the tip of his blade. "I will not make the same mistake."


	31. Chapter 30: Aragorn Elessar

_Please keep this story's rating in mind, with this chapter most of all._

* * *

**_The Same Woman_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padmé**

**Aragorn Elessar**

If there was one thing during those tense moments that could bring Glir out of the stuttering, frightful stage he was in then, it was his consuming hatred of Aragorn.

"You?" Glir asked incredulously, not believing. After a few more moments of pause, he stated in a firm, dark tone, "_You_."

Aragorn leaned forward in a mock bow. "Me."

For good measure, Arwen called out, "That is the man I love, Glir. Remember?" she sing-songed in a tone that underlined her true anger, "The one I told you who's eyes you are dust in?"

With a warm smile that he only reserved for Arwen, Aragorn sent her a playful wink. Immediately though, as his gaze returned to Glir, it became serious, grim…. deadly.

"Elladen!" Aragorn called, without breaking eye contact with Glir. "Fetch this worthless elf a sword please." He raised the sharp tip of his own weapon and pointed it at his opponent. "Let us see if the legend of Glir's swordsmanship was nothing more than a false myth, born out of arrogance and vanity." Elladen complied with a quick nod before hurrying off.

A bleak smile crept upon Glir's face. "I warn you… my skills are not of false pretences. Do not underestimate me."

"Oh, Glir," Aragorn mused in a deadly tone. "I already made that mistake months ago. I won't do it again."

After a pause, Glir cocked an eyebrow in mock amusement. "A well conceived plan, Aragorn. I would never have suspected you to be intelligent enough to first concoct it and then carry it out."

Aragorn replied darkly, "The plan will only be complete once your corpse lies beside my feet."

Glir broke into a wide grin—his excitement about the impending fight was gathering. "Ah, my—such harsh, black words from a man who claims to be so noble and dignified! You probably think _me_ to be the barbarian, yet one could hardly tell the difference between yourself and one with your words!"

Aragorn began to orchestrate something of a dance—he would move clockwise, and Glir would move in turn with him. The two opponents circled each other with dangerous gracefulness. As he spoke, Aragorn resumed pointing his blade in Glir's direction. "You caused the only family I've ever known grief and heartache." His eyes grew shimmered with an even darker intensity. "You _struck_ Arwen," his lips quivered with fury of boiling emotions, "and then insulted her lineage!"

Glir's eyes flickered menacingly. "Ah, yet another surprise! So you saw that little encounter, did you? Tell me, Aragorn, did you enjoy the show?"

Engrossed with the thought of the fight beginning, Aragorn called out to no one in particular in a voice filled with raw rage, "_Get this elf a sword_!"

Glir shrugged his shoulders. "I have realized my past mistake of not killing you when you were defenseless. Why commit the same error? Your fate and your life will be mine when a sword is put in my grasp."

Aragorn shook his head from side to side slowly, his chin low. "Your overconfidence is your weakness."

Glir harshly bit back, "Your faith in your so-called _family_ is yours." After a few seconds, he continued, "Do you know what our conflict is, noble Aragorn?"

Silently, Aragorn nodded. Then he replied, "You and I are in love with the same woman."

"No, no," Glir replied with a frown. "That was an infatuation. No maiden is worth all this trouble."

Aragorn stole a glance at Arwen, who was still standing nearby, wringing her hands. "I disagree," he answered.

"I press," Glir continued, "that our conflict is really, well, mostly _your_ conflict. You see, you can't kill me, Aragorn. I'm an elf—immortal. Surely you know this!" A hoarse laugh escaped from his throat.

A smile that could be called nothing other than sinister tugged at Aragorn's cheeks. "Tell me, Glir… what good will having an immortal body do you if you have no head?"

Glir's laughter abruptly stopped.

"Poor, poor Glir… he didn't realize that Elves aren't immune to everything."

While the dangerous exchanges were being passed between the hostile elf and man, a maiden stood to the side, listening anxiously—Arwen. Her brow often creased as she heard some of the dark words fall from Aragorn's mouth. They were so different from his usual calm, passive, and compassionate speech. This was Aragorn, the angry, protective warrior who had already seen too many harsh things in the world, talking— not Estel, the loving, reflective companion who spent quiet hours reading in her father's library and whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

Arwen had never seen him face someone he hated before. In fact, she couldn't remember him hating anyone else at all. It was so easy to forget that the kingly Aragorn was capable of such a raw emotion as hate.

"I seek vengeance for Arwen," Aragorn was saying. "You've disgraced her in a way no maiden should ever be."

The idea that Aragorn was doing this for her was no comfort to Arwen. Such a large part of her just wanted Aragorn to put down his sword, wrap his warm arms around her, and take her to their memorable tree clearing where they'd told each other of their love endess times. Instead, she could only watch as Aragorn and Glir continued to circle each other.

That is, until her brother returned with a threatening sword… and a crowd of disbelieving onlookers in tow. Their gasps rang in Arwen's ears. Elrond sent his son a questioning look.

"I am most sorry, father," Elladan began. "The guests were already on their way towards this abode. They quickened their pace once they saw me run by them with an unsheathed sword."

Elrond nodded gravely. "I understand." Seeking command of the situation, Elrond spoke again loudly, "Fair guests! An announcement is to be made by the one who speaks words this very moment. I have news for you distinguished ones." Immediately, all of the dozens of guests hushed with avid attention to the Elven Lord. He took a deep breath. "There is to be no wedding this day. Glir will _never_, in all the time of Middle Earth, be wedded to Lady Arwen Un—"

"Never say never, Lord Elrond," Glir broke in haughtily, echoing his exact same statements to Arwen over an hour earlier.

Sternly, Elrond replied quickly, "_Hush_, foul thing!" Then without missing a beat, Elrond turned back to the surprised guests, continuing diplomatically, "As you can all see, Rivendell's beloved Estel, Aragron Elessar, has returned, alive and secure!"

A wave of gasps arose amongst the group—apparently not all could see over the heights of their encounter parts, and had not realized yet that a ghost had returned to their midst.

Aragorn sent them all a brief appreciative look, and then returned to alternating his focus between Glir, and Arwen—who was only looking at him. He offered a small smile of acknowledgement when a round of happy applause broke out.

Glir's face contorted in disgust at the sound.

"A matter has to be settled in the rawest form," Elrond continued. "Both of the opponents have agreed on the decision of the swordfight. But I would like to extend the suggestion to the opponents… to, ah, move their duel into a more open clearing?" Leaving his voice hanging, he finished his question with a graceful motion of his hand into the nearest clearing.

With a quick nod from Aragorn, followed by one even shorter from Glir, Elrond led the way out of Admir Garden. Aragorn sheathed his sword, but gripped the handle tightly with one hand. The procession followed Elrond with Elrohir, who was followed by Glir, who was flanked by Elladan. Behind the twin brothers and the hostile elf that they had silently agreed to guard as they walked, traveled Aragorn, with an agitated Arwen on his shoulder. She gripped his arm firmly.

"Aragorn, please, do not do anything unless you know that it is the right course of action!"

Aragorn looked at her pleadingly, nothing but love, devotion, and timidness in eyes. "Do you not support me, my Arwen?" His quiet voice made him sound vulnerable and exposed. He only looked at _her_ like this—he only let Arwen see _this_ side of him. This was the Estel that lovingly kissed her goodnight; this was the Estel that told her he loved her with every fiber of his being; this was the Estel that would die for her.

Which was exactly what Arwen was afraid of.

Arwen raised her trembling hand to touch his unshaven cheek. She stroked it with the utmost tenderness as she said, "I will support you in _all_ that you do, no matter what." Careful to still be mindful of her steps, Arwen leaned forward to lay a soothing kiss on Aragorn's temple. "I am full of your heart, do you remember, my Estel? And you are just as full of mine."

Aragorn closed his heavy eyes, his powerful emotions for this maiden temporarily overpowering him. He realized with a heavy heart that Arwen had remembered his words to her the night he'd finally told her he loved her.

He wrapped a firm arm around her shoulders and pressed her to him, and they walked like that contently. "Oh, my Arwen…." he breathed into her hair. "I am so glad that I was able to return to you. So very glad…"

Arwen nodded faintly. "As am I, Estel."

Their arrival at the clearing came much too soon for either Arwen or Aragorn.

While Glir went directly to the center of the forming circle of guests, Aragorn followed Arwen to a side of the ring. They were clutching each other's hands so tightly that their knuckles were white.

Aragorn stopped and spun on his heel to directly face Arwen. "You know that I love you, right, Arwen?"

She looked into his eyes with sincerity. "Yes, and you know that I love you, as well?"

He darted inwards to meet her mouth in a quick kiss. "My heart beats powerfully with that knowledge."

"Oh, I am so sorry to interrupt, Aragorn, but I have a fight to kill you in!"

They both continued as if they hadn't heard Glir's taunting voice. "Aragorn," Arwen whimpered, feeling tears below her eyes. "Aragorn, please—"

"Arwen, you must be strong for me. Be on my side in this fight!"

"You know that I am!"

Another quick kiss. "Promise me that I won't see you cry during this ensuing battle. I saw you cry buckets earlier today—I don't think I could do it again."

She grasped the sides of his face in her hands, and then Arwen leaned up to give Aragorn a long, meaningful kiss that left his lips burning.

As he rested his forehead against hers with sorrowful eyes, she said, "You have my love, Aragorn. Use it as a shield against his words."

"_Aragorn!_"

"I love you, Evenstar."

A last, desperate kiss. "And I love you, Elessar."

They broke away reluctantly. When Aragorn turned and switched his focus to his opponent in front of him, his gaze and demeanor were nothing but severe and fatal.

By now Glir had wrenched the sword from Elladan and was slicing it through the air dramatically. "Pray, tell me, Aragorn," he began wistfully. "Are you ready to die today?"

"No," Aragorn answered in a rough voice. He strolled towards Glir in a walk that mimicked how predators stalk their prey. "But that doesn't matter much. After all, I am not the one who will draw my last breath today."

"Well, perhaps you can at least draw your sword, so that this fight may begin eventually!"

Aragorn complied immediately, his steps quickening towards the Elf. His sword shone brightly in the sunlight, and its blade was razor-sharp. As Glir came ever closer, it seemed only moments until the two would meet in a fiery clash to begin the anticipated battle… until…

"HALT!"

Both opponents froze at the command of the authoritative voice.

Lord Elrond held up his hands, and all eyes were focused on him. Once he knew he had everyone's attention, he slowly lowered his palms until they hung by his side. His voice boomed around the clearing, "No bystander shall interfere with the battle in any way. The duelists are completely dependent on themselves in this fight. Have you both come to the terms of when this fight shall cease?"

With eyes locked on each other, Aragorn and Glir both said in almost perfect unison, "Till death."

Nodding as though he was terribly afraid that he might hear that, Elrond finished, "May the Valar be with them both."

It was assumed by everyone that that statement was the end of the speeches. They were proven wrong when a loud, determined, feminine voice continued,

"Especially with Aragorn!"

Many heads turned—with either an amused or a disapproving look—towards a heavily breathing Arwen. He father frowned gravely at her with his face, but his sparkling eyes told another opinion.

With one last word, Lord Elrond proclaimed, "_Begin_!"

With the hatred that had been brewing in him for months, Aragorn finally unleashed the rage and anger through his sword. The opening sound of the climatic battle began with Aragorn's, son of Arathon, Elessar, and Glir's, son of Egerlio and Irenil, swords meeting in a loud clash that rang in the ears of the witnesses and threatened to shatter the weapons into dozens of pieces.

* * *

_Some time later..._

The swords hit with another resounding _BANG!_ "Oh, what was that, Aragorn?" Glir's voice mocked, taunting.

"I _said_..." A swing, a thrust, a parry. "That a body cannot survive without a _heart_. "He paused to block a swing headed for his left arm. "Even if the heart is as black as yours! You are not invincible, Glir, although I know you believe yourself to be."

"Really? I never would have guessed, the way this battle was continuing!"

With his strength failing, Aragorn lunged clumsily at Glir. He manage to add yet another deep cut along Glir's arm, but when he passed, Glir swung low and his sword gashed into the side of Aragorn's right leg.

The only sound that rang louder than Aragorn's sudden scream of utter, blinding pain was Arwen's.

Glir laughed as he watched his opponent sway. "Come now, do you really think you could have defeated me? I am a master in sword fighting, while _you_ are just a pathetic hopeful."

Aragorn gasped in agony, glancing down at the bleeding gash in his leg. The pain was incredible. He looked up at Glir, who was laughing manically. He took a deep breath, and remembered what he had learned from his teachers and from his experiences. He must concentrate!

Glir stopped laughing, and sighed. In his eyes he could already see that this threat was finished. "You failed, you fool of a Man… and now you will suffer for it."

Aragorn looked up at Glir, and a smile hinted in his expression. "I am not dead yet."

"All in time! You soon will be."

Aragorn shook his head, "I do not believe so."

Glir raised an eyebrow, and then suddenly moved in for the kill. He came on in a rush, striking right and left, determined to take away Aragorn's life. Arwen fought to hold back a worried scream.

Aragorn parried and then thrust— he didn't have much agility left because his leg dragged and he could barely stand on it. He slashed up with a right arc, then changing directions to slice sideways.

Glir watched in amazement as his earlier movements were mimicked by the young Man. There was only one thing to do— catch the impersonator in his own trick. The moves were his, thus they should be easy to anticipate.

Aragorn saw that the Elf was falling for the trap, and set the bait. One curving strike and-

Glir moved to counter-act, but found that his opponent's blade was not where he had thought it would be. Instead, he not only missed Aragorn's chest, but he also had his weapon away and practically out of commission. He heard a chuckle from his intended victim, and realized that he may have had actually been overconfident. On the side, Elrond and Arwen breathed sighs of relief.

Aragorn's blade was also out of the way, and he couldn't use it fast enough to kill Glir. By the time he would have had his sword ready, Glir would have moved away. Briefly settling for hand to hand combat, Aragorn balled his left hand into a fist and slammed the Elf in the back.

Glir coughed heavily, his breath knocked out of him. The Elf was not fragile, but Aragorn's fist might as well have been a sledge hammer. Still, he managed to get away from Aragorn's grasp and came back with a torrent of thrusts, but the chestnut-haired man countered every stab and reversed many of the offensive measures.

However, while Aragorn was successfully holding off Glir, he was drastically wearing out. The injury in his leg seeped blood and made him weaker by the second. Glir knew it as much as Aragorn did, and he smiled smugly.

Aragorn slashed down, but Glir parried. The two warriors stood opposite each other, in a momentary limbo. Arwen took a deep for the first time in what felt like minutes.

"You have surprising skill, for a weak and feeble _Man_," Glir said, sneering, "But you are no match for my skills."

Aragorn gritted his teeth. "You, Glir, are nothing but fancy words and overconfidence."

"It is finally finished!" Glir reared up, weapon drawn high.

Aragorn parried, but Glir was very powerful. The two swords were brought against each other, driving against each other, shaking with the energy being exerted behind them.

Glir grinned as he saw that his strike was bringing his opponent down, and just when he was about to raise away for yet another, Aragorn darted his hand into the as-yet-unnoticed sheath by his right leg. In a flash, he emerged a long dagger, and thrust it deeply into Glir's thigh. The Elf cried out in horror, pain, and surprise as he fell backwards onto the earth.

Aragorn didn't hesitate. He raised his sword into a tight arch, preparing to cut it down upon the Elf.

Glir shut his eyes, too much of a coward to see his own demise, waiting to taste the bitter pain of his death.

And he waited… and waited…

But even after several moments, it never came.

Finally a trembling, gruff voice spoke. "I…. I am not going to kill you."

Glir's face shot up. "What!"

"I am _not_ going to kill you, Glir. You deserve to die a painful death. You deserve to suffer immeasurable agony and ache, and I would treasure the opportunity to be the administrator of it all." In the beats of silence following his remarks, the clouds that had briefly covered Aragorn's eyes seemed to part. He spoke in a heavy, breathless tone. "But… you see… killing you would bring me down to your level of cruelty, manipulation, and pure evilness…." He moved to cast a longing look at Arwen. The couple's eyes met in a strong embrace, conveying what words could not. After a long moment, he returned his gaze to the loathed Elf before him. "… but if I was equal to you… I wouldn't deserve Arwen anymore than you do." He leaned forward with steely eyes, and continued in a low voice, "And one day, she will be _my_ beautiful and _very willing_ bride. I am not going to make myself unworthy of her." He turned once more to gaze upon Arwen, who by now was crying silently, although she was trying to hide it from Aragorn. "I love her too much to do that to us."

A gasp escaped Arwen's red lips, and she briskly wiped the tears that were tickling her cheeks away. Breathlessly, she replied, "I love you too."

Aragorn looked upon her with a kind of sacredness, and then turned to face Glir again. He leaned forward to extend his hand to the fallen Elf, but after a few long moments of reflection, Glir turned his focus to the ground—away from Aragorn. Resigning himself to Glir's decision to not split civilly, Aragorn turned and began to slowly walk away. His footsteps were heavy and dragged on the earth. His eyes were tired and his eyelids heavy. A trickle of blood followed him from his deep cut on his leg.

Arwen took a few steps after him, prepared to follow Aragorn, but stopped herself a few feet away from Glir. She told herself that there would be time for clutching embraces and desperate kisses later.

Glir stood gradually. Blood seeped from the cuts in his arms. No one dared to stay a word. Glir noticed with hot eyes that Arwen was still casting a longing look after Aragorn. Disgusted, humiliated, defeated, exhausted, and on the verge of insanity, Glir gripped his sword's handle firmly as he lunged at Arwen, raging, "_IF I CAN'T HAVE WHAT I WANT, NO ONE WILL!"_

Aragorn spun around instantly, his face frantic. He screamed with the terror of all of Middle Earth inside of his heart, "**_AARRWWEN!"_**

In a flash, Aragorn was crossing the distance between himself and Glir and Arwen with two purposeful strides, his sword ready and protective.

But it was too late.

The horrific sound of Glir's sword slicing into Arwen's abdomen would haunt Aragorn for the rest his days.

Aragorn dropped his sword, stopped in mid-step, with his mouth agape in shock and fear.

Arwen's gasp was meek and barely audible. She raised her tearful eyes filled with hurt to lock them with Glir's. He sneered at her once before harshly removing the sword from her. He had no care or mercy as to whether or not his brash action would cut into her even worse. As soon as the sword was completely out of Arwen, she started to double over in her collapse.

Seeing his love fall, Aragorn, with a face as white as his eyeballs, rushed so quickly that his hands were a blur.

One moment he was running.

One moment he had grabbed Glir's sword.

One moment the blade was singing through the air, its voice a haunting foreshadowing.

One moment the weapon was being ruthlessly plunged into Glir's heart, delivering a fatal blow.

One moment he was catching Arwen in his sturdy arms while Glir sank to the ground.

The next moment his tears were dampening Arwen's robes.

"A-Arwen? Ar-Arwen? No, NO! Oh,_ Valar_…."

"I'll b-be alright," Arwen was repeating in a shaky, frail voice as Aragorn lowered her to the earth. "I'm an e-elf." But her words did not coincide with the evidence her paling face and rapid blood flow were producing.

"I-I'm immortal….im-imortal…" she breathed hoarsely.

Behind the anxious couple, Glir sputtered his own blood through his parted lips. His hands and feet flayed about the dirt floor as his body encountered short spasms. Aragorn didn't cast a glance at him.

"_It's all my fault_," Aragorn croaked out through his sobs. "I should have swept you into my arms and just taken you far away from here the moment I returned!"

He squeezed her hand harder. Straining, she continued, "I-I…I…" Arwen's eyelids suddenly fluttered closed, and Aragorn's panic continued to escalate as he fell from his hunches to his knees.

Glir finally stopped moving. His open eyes stared off into nothingness.

"Get her to the healer's ward! I will have enough materials there to help her!" Elrond commanded to the surrounding observers in an extremely agitated voice. "She is about to pass out!"

Not only would Aragorn _not_ wait for others to come and lift his love away to the healers, but he quickly forbid in his mind and heart the possibility of anyone else besides himself carrying her. With his tears still falling on her damp robes, Aragorn reverently slid his shaking hands underneath Arwen's backside and gently lifted her into his strong arms. Once her weight felt secure, he rolled back on his ankles-- aloud cry of painfrom his leg couldnot be restrained from his lips--and then used his leg and thigh muscles to stand. Solemnly and quickly, he turned in the direction of the healer's ward and began his walk. The witnesses followed him silently, concern for their princess clearly evident on all of their faces.

Agitated, Elladan called out, "Someone of a stout heart carry the lifeless body of Glir away to the proper place!" Immediately, two able-bodied Elven men stepped towards Glir's corpse, and promptly—with out too much care—raised the body and walked away. Satisfied enough, Elladan followed his family.

Elrond fell in step behind Aragorn. By now, a deathly pale Arwen had already passed out and slipped into the unconscious realm. Aragorn, without breaking his stride and without looking at the Elven lord, asked in a voice that trembled, "Lord… tell me that our Arwen shall be well."

Elrond paused only briefly before answering, "There is no reason to believe otherwise. She is of Elven-kind. The life of the Elder flows through her veins."

Elrond thought that Aragorn had heard and understood when the lord didn't receive an answer, but after several tense moments the man replied, "Then why does my heart beat with such ferocious anxiety, and why does my breath come in such short gasps of despair? Why do I feel as if I must clutch my love desperately, as if the warmth of her body will not last?"

After several minutes of contemplation, Lord Elrond simply did not have an answer to Aragorn's frantic questions.

"_Why_ does she react so deeply the way she does? She is immortal!"

Elrond let out a heavy sigh. "Aragorn… Glir has cut her fragile body deeply."

The ensuing silence hung between them, choking their hearts.

As the procession crossed over a bridge, bringing them closer to the healers, Elrond asked worriedly, "Aragorn, my son, you are exhausted both from your travels and your fight. I can see it in the way your muscles tense and clench. Why don't you allow a fresher one to carry your precious load?"

Without hesitation, Aragorn answered with an edge in his tone, "No."

"You have your own injuries to worry about!"

The severity in Aragorn's voice was enough to silence even the mighty Lord Elrond. "_No_."

* * *

Stay tuned for the **_final_** chapter in _The Same Woman_ coming soon….. 

By the way, hey Star Wars fans… did you catch a familiar-looking quote in there? ;-)


	32. Chapter 31: House of Healing

**Good grief! My sincerest apologizes, truly. Especially, here at the end, I wanted to be punctual with the final updates. Real life, to put it _very_ lightly, can be such a drag. **

**Here we go...**

* * *

_**The Same Woman**_

**By Rose-Arwen-Padmé**

**House of Healing**

"_Tinúviel elvanui_…" His voice cracked as he sang. "_Elleth alfirin edhelhael_," his rough vocal cords permit him from singing clearly once again. "_O hon_," his voice cracked once more, "_ring finnil fuinui. A renc gelebrin thiliol_..." his voice trailed off, a wisp of smoke dissolving in the evening air.

"She loves you, Aragorn."

Aragorn, who had ceased his singing, looked up at the speaker. Lord Elrond placed a shaky hand on the young Lord's shoulder. "I should have accepted that a long time ago."

Kneeling by Arwen's bedside, his soiled hands tightly entwined with her own nimble, blood-stained fingers, Aragorn remained silent. He had no reply to give to Arwen's father.

The bleeding had stopped, thanks to the avid work of both the Healers and Aragorn. Her trim abdomen no longer leaked crimson fluid. She would be alright. She would be alright.

_She will live._

And yet, as incredibly relived and thankful Aragorn was to know this, a new well of despair had been mercilessly dug into his heart.

_Children… the chances that she will ever carry a child… our child…_

The damage to Arwen's lower abdomen had been gravely serious, enough to almost take her life. Aragorn had sat by her beside for five days in the House of Healing. He barely ate, and never slept, instead dozing off from time to time. Arwen's folded hands, always in contact with his own, served as his soft pillow whenever his eyelids grew too heavy to bear. But always, within a short hour, he was awake again, waiting anxiously for Arwen to open her eyes for the first time since that horrible day when a blade had cut into her.

The sound of steel slicing into Arwen caused nightmares for Aragorn that plagued him at all times. His eyes, orbs of ever-boiling emotions, were constantly brimming with tears as he blanketed himself with a dark cloak of self-hatred. He completely blamed himself for Arwen's current state. He prayed constantly for her to awaken, to open those eyes of endless beauty, to speak with that melodious voice. He needed her forgiveness.

_Oh, how I need her forgiveness._

_A child… our own precious child._

And as much as he desired and longed for her to awaken from her healing slumber, he dreaded the moment when he would have to tell her the truth, when he would have to inform her of how grave—how permanent—her wounds were. The look of pain that was sure to cross her face would be enough to send him over the edge, he knew.

"Aragorn," Elrond sighed, knowing in his heart what the answer would be to his repeated request. "You need rest. You need a real meal. Arwen will not be pleased if she wakes up to find that you've—"

"—_When _she wakes up—"

"Yes, when she awakens, she won't be comforted to know how emotionally and physically unstable you are."

Aragorn ran the back of his hand down Arwen's still cheek.

"She will understand, My Lord."

Elrond sighed in defeat. "Yes, I suppose she would understand. After all, if your roles were switched, she would probably be lying in that bed beside you."

Aragorn gave a vacant, void smile. "I already tried. The bed is too small to fit us both."

_Oh, but I'd give anything to have our roles reversed. _

* * *

_Glir…hysterical._

_Aragorn…not in my arms, where he should be._

_Where he should always be._

_Glir…wicked, malevolent Glir… moving._

_Sword…blade…skin…_

_My skin!_

_Aragorn! It hurts! It hurts! _

_Do you hear me?_

_Your image is fading, love… the darkness surrounds me._

_I'm cold… so very cold…_

_Hold me. Keep me warm._

_No! I am numb! I cannot feel your touch!_

_Aragorn! Blood… **blood**..._

_Don't let it be his blood! Don't let this crimson river be of his body!_

_But, no… it is mine… my own. It flows, oh so steadily, from my veins…_

_How long have I been on the ground? Are you still holding me?_

_Are you…it hurts…are you there?_

_Aragorn?_

_Aragorn!_

"Aragorn!"

The cry that reverberates like a battle cry in her heart comes out as a faint whisper in reality through her lips. Nevertheless, her first word in days is heard by the person who has been praying ceaselessly for her conscious return.

_I feel you… I feel your touch._

"That's it, dear Arwen. Come back to me. Come be with me." The emotion in the voice is laced with huskiness, barely suppressed tears, and raw love.

Her eyes have yet to open. She has yet to find the strength to pry open her lids, no matter how much she wishes to look upon Aragorn. Yet her smile overwhelms any weakness, and her joyful grin beams for the first time in too long.

"Oh, Valar," a shaky breath, "I thought I'd never see that precious smile again."

His earlier words echo in her hazy, blurry world called _thought_. _"Come back to me. Come be with me."_

"Silly, Estel," she smiles, and vainly tries to open her eyes. "I am always with you. How can I return to a place that I never left?"

"Rest, Arwen. You need to recover your strength."

She smiles again, recognizing the owner of that low, familiar voice. "Father," she breathes.

After several emotional moments, she hears her reply, which is accompanied with a tender kiss on her forehead. "Daughter," he says, wiping away the tears that escape his eyes.

"He has been telling beings to rest for several days now," she hears that lovely, rugged voice say. "Although, he has never rested himself either. Perhaps you should be the first to listen to him."

She doesn't put up a fight. Already the darkness and weakness is taking over her again.

_Rest… rest… love…_

"I…. I love…."

She feels Aragorn strengthen his grip on their joined hands. She feels the whiskers of his facial hair as he kisses their interlocking. "I know. I… love you t-too." His voice cracks, and her smile stretches once more.

And at that moment, before the weakness overtakes her, she basks in his words of love, words that she waited so impatiently to hear for so long. She basks in them just like she had the first time they graced her ears.

* * *

_Aragorn…_

_Father…_

_I want to see them. I don't want to just hear them, feel them. _

_I want to _see _them._

_So, open your eyes…_

…And she does…. and the first thing she sees are two brown pools staring back at her.

"Aragorn," she sighed happily, tiredly. "Y-you're alright."

His grin spread across his face. "_I'm _alright? What about you? You're the only that's been sleeping in this bed for so long."

Arwen closed her eyes, briefly resting her lids. He didn't let the impulsive cry of the pain of her eyes being hidden from him yet again escape his lips. There would be plenty of time for that later, after she had fully recovered.

_What am I saying? She will never fully recover. Never be the way she once was…never be the way that she _could _have been._

"How long?"

He brushed the side of her cheek with his calloused fingers. She cherished the touch as if it were silk. "Three weeks."

A small smirk graced her features. "My, how lazy of me."

"Lazy indeed, Milady."

She raised her eyebrows, and her eyes peeked open. "I'm still pondering why you haven't properly greeted me with a kiss yet."

She heard his chuckle and her smile radiated even more. "How lazy of _me_," he replied, still humored by her comment.

"_No_ excuses, Lord Aragorn. I'm still waiting."

She felt his warm breath on her lips before she actually felt his physical touch. The kiss lasted far too briefly for her likely, though.

"Pah, you call that a kiss? Your standards have evidently dropped considerably while I have been resting."

He grinned. "Your father is standing no less than four feet away from us presently."

"Good excuse. Excellent excuse." She paused, hoping she wasn't blushing too badly. "Father?"

"I'm here, Arwen." He ran his hand across her forehead lovingly. "And your brothers are here as well, anxious to see you in your recovered state."

Arwen searched for and quickly found Aragorn's hand. She gave it a firm squeeze as she muttered, "Even better excuse."

Even as Arwen's light banter unclouded the shade upon Aragorn's own heart, it still beat with a painful drum.

_I cannot do this. I cannot bear this burden unto her heart._

* * *

Her fingers lightly traced the lines in his furrowed brow. "Something troubles you." It was a statement, not a question. 

Arwen, sitting up comfortably in her plush bed, eyed Aragorn closely.

"I am merely tired from the events of past time." He gave her a half-hearted grin, which, of course, she saw right through.

"_Estel_."

That was a warning.

"I am troubled when you are troubled, dear Arwen."

Her eyes grew wider with an edge in them. "Do not 'dear' me, Estel. You know that I am only troubled because you are troubled."

"But I am only troubled because you are troubled!"

"Estel!"

Her loud voice echoed off the walls in her chamber, where she had been moved to three days ago. Aragorn, of course, had never left her side. He hadn't been away from her more than a few minutes since the duel with Glir weeks ago.

She witnessed, through looking at his eyes, as his walls crumbled. Arwen felt a twinge of guilt, knowing that Aragorn could not refuse her, much like she could never refuse him. She had used his unconditional devotion to her as an advantage just now. Whether or not it was a good time or right time to talk to her about something, he would not deny her the information. He could not deny her anything.

She took his hand in her own. She brought it up to her lips and kissed his skin tenderly. "You know that you can tell me anything."

She watched lovingly as he brought their joined hands to his own lips. After settling their interlocking fingers on the bed sheets once again, he caressed her smooth flesh with his thumb.

After several moments, he whispered so softly that she barely heard it, "Very well." He rose from his position in a chair by her bedside. "It is time." He slowly climbed onto the bed next to Arwen's right side. She was thankful that this bed, different from the one in the House of Healing, could easily accommodate both of their bodies.

She patiently waited as he wrapped his left arm behind her head and around her shoulders. Arwen grew more and more worried as he became more and more serious. The light seemed sucked out of the room, despite the fact that it was a exceptionally sunny day and all the curtains were open.

"Arwen…" he started, but his voice seemed to suddenly fail him. He wasn't looking in her eyes, as if he couldn't bring himself to.

"Aragorn, I will be honest… you are scaring me."

"I know… but, dear Arwen, there is no way to break this news gently. I know this, yet I still search for a way that will make it painless, both for me to deliver it and you to receive it." He locked eyes with her, finally. "My search is in vain."

She cupped his cheek with her hand. "Whatever it is, I can handle it." She tried to keep her voice from trembling. "We have been through so much already; I feel that we could take on any challenge." She paused, raising an eyebrow in an attempt at amusement. "Mind you, that doesn't mean that I want to try to take on anything. I'd much prefer a peaceful life with you."

"Arwen…" He ran a shaky hand through his hair.

"Will I, in the end, have you with me? Whatever this ordeal is, will you be with me?"

The determination in his eyes shone bright, coupled with his devotion. "Every step of the way."

She smiled. "Then I know that it will be alright. Tell me," she pressed.

He broke eye contact with her, and she felt some of her confidence fade.

_Why can't he just look at me forever? I always feel safe in his eyesight._

Nevertheless, he nodded, and began, "Your father thought that it would be better if I waited longer to reveal this to you. Although I disagreed, he thought it would be the right way."

"Yes, well, my father has shown in the past few months that his view of what is best for me isn't always the correct course of action."

"True enough, yet, he persisted. However… I… I cannot continue to keep this from you. You _would _have found out eventually. It was only a matter of time, a matter of _when_." He gave her shoulder a supportive squeeze. "It was tearing me up so much to know this truth, but to wait until you were recovered enough to hear it…"

"Aragorn, please, just tell me."

His eyes finally locked onto hers again, and she plainly saw the tears about to fall. "Arwen…" he paused yet again, appearing to collect his strength. "Your injuries were so serious. We thought that we were going to loose you. I myself was once at the point of insanity with worry."

"You love me, that's not a probl—"

"Oh, how I love you, Arwen! I do! Truly!"

She cupped his cheek with her hand again, and he surprised her by frantically grasping it, pressing it against the side of his face more. "I know you do, Estel. I don't doubt it for a moment."

"Arwen… I only want you to have a wonderful life. A life with a loving, doting husband, a proud father… and a surrounding family of abundant _children_."

"And I will!" she gasped, wide eyed. "There is nothing and no one stopping us now."

"Nothing and no one…" he repeated with melancholy. He swallowed, "except your own body."

Arwen froze at his words, and her soft hand went limp in his grasp. "What?" she whispered.

Aragorn couldn't look at her once again, even though she needed his eyes looking into her _so _very badly. "Arwen," but she trembled, suddenly not wanting him to continue. "You're wounds to your abdomen—your _lower_ _abdomen_—they affected you in ways that nothing, not even Elven magic can heal… permanent ways. These are ways that only a maiden can be affected in."

She felt the pressure of tears building.

_This can't be true. Life doesn't strike this hard, this much, this fast._

"No," she breathed.

"Arwen—"

"_No._"

He used his thumbs to wipe away the tears that were falling at a rapid speed down her pale cheeks. "There is a chance that you will never be able to conceive a child."

Her tears were falling to fast for him to wipe them away. He paid no attention to the tears that were cascading from his own eyes.

"How large of a chance?" she questioned, her voice tremulous.

"Arwen, there is such little hope. It would be futile to think that it could happen. Your beautiful, fragile body was cut so deep in just the place—"

Her low voice pierced his heart. "There is still hope."

Aragorn grasped her face in his hands. He hated to see her clinging to a false dream that he felt sure was no longer in her reach. He had seen the damage to her feminine body himself when they were first attempting to heal her. "Arwen! You must listen to me! It is now nearly impossible for you to carry a chi—"

"_Noooo!_" she wailed, suddenly flinging her arms at him—at his chest, at his face, at his arms. She yet again experienced the heartache of her world falling apart around her. Her heart had crystallized, become glass, and the barest of winds had shattered it, breaking it into a million piercing shards. Her sobs damaged his soul more than any of her physical blows could ever have. "_Nooooo!_" Her unbearable agony cut through her spirit like Glir's torturous, vindictive blade had cut through her skin, stealing away from her the one thing that she had _never _thought she could lose.

He held her long into the day and into the night. Desperately try as he did, Aragorn was not able to soothe her anguished cries—the cries of a mother that had lost a child before it was ever even conceived. Aragorn wept with her, feeling the loss of a son or daughter that he knew he would never hold.

* * *


	33. Epilogue

**This is the last time I get to say this for this story... -tear falls-... so I'm going to make it count. **

**-summons courage-**

**_Here we go..._**

**

* * *

**

**_The Same Woman_**

**By Rose-Arwen-Padmé**

**Epilogue**

(Several, Several Years Later)

He knew something had happened the moment she entered the chamber with that smile on her face.

"What on Middle-Earth could do this? I thought that my bride was so beautiful that her beauty could never be equaled, not even by her self! Yet here you come, entering the chamber with that radiating smile on your face. You outdo yourself, my queen."

Arwen seemed to float her way over to her husband. She was tempted to roll her eyes at his love-struck remarks, which he never tired of composing. "Mmmmm, dear, do you realize how little sense that philosophy makes?" She wrapped her arms around his waist, loving the feeling of touching him. "You say that my beauty cannot be matched, even by myself?" He nodded, gripping her face gently with both his hands as he leaned to capture her lips in a kiss. "How can that be?"

A low rumble echoed in his throat. "You are asking me to think… to put together comprehensible sentences when I have you in my arms… when you smell like _this_." He ran his hands down her arms. "When you feel like _this_."

Arwen smiled giddily. "Oh, if only the kingdom knew how much of a love-beast their king truly is."

Aragorn buried his face in her neck, scorching her skin with kisses. "Oh, but the kingdom will never see the 'love-beast' that you speak of. Only you bring out this side of me."

"I should certainly hope so," she mused, loving the attention he was giving her.

"Certainly," he replied, his voice muffled as his lips draped across her skin.

"Yes, hope is a wonderful thing," she continued, a dreamy look on her face, which he presently could not see. "Amazing what hope can do, would you say so?"

"My dear, I will say and believe whatever you want me to say and believe."

Arwen's laughter greeted his ears. "If you keep this up, I might have to postpone telling you my news, and that would eventually be most distressful to me."

Aragorn sighed overdramatically and stopped his exploration of the skin outlining his wife's collarbone. "Come now, it cannot be _that _important. Nothing important enough to bring my attention away from you." He resumed his ministrations, this time with his hands caressing her back.

"Oh," she beamed. "You'd be surprised." She wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling love seep in every pore of her body. "It is… shall we say, of one of the highest matters of royal business?"

"Exactly. Just as I said— not enough to divert my attention away from you."

She laughed again, and his heart floated at the sound. "What an idle king," she teased. "What would your subjects think?"

"It's not my fault!" he rebutted, now deciding to kiss every inch of her face before finishing with her lips. "It's your fault. You have this effect on me."

She giggled excitedly. "Believe me, my lord, the feeling is mutual."

Aragorn was placing soft kisses on her left cheek. "My, my, my, what inadequate rulers we are."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that, dear Aragorn. I'd say we've now meet all the requirements of a royal man and wife." He pulled back only long enough to give her a confused look before devouring her neck once again. She fought to not give in to her own desires. "Now, please, step away long enough for me to tell you of joyous news."

"Joy?" Aragorn yanked backwards to fix her with an incredulous, mimicking look. "Joy? You are ignoring my husbandly advances! You want to talk of politics! I want to get reacquainted with my wife!"

This time, Arwen's giggling caught his attention more than earlier. "Oh, I have no doubt that you are fully acquainted with me, my lord. And now we both shall share in the joy of the results of it!"

Aragorn raised an eyebrow. "Now, I… _think _I like what you are talking about." He paused to stare at her a bit closer. "What _are _you talking about, Arwen?"

"First tell me you love me."

He smiled warmly and lovingly. His tone was soft. "I love you."

"Tell me that you will want me forever."

"You know that it's true. I will want you forever."

Her eyes twinkled merrily. "You will love me and want me even if I have unpleasant stretch marks?"

Surprised, but still going along, King Aragorn replied, "I will love and want you even if you have unpleasant stretch marks."

"Even if I gain several pounds, and I _do_ mean _several _pounds? Completely losing my figure to become more of a ball with arms and legs?"

"Even if you become a ball with arms and legs."

"Even if I tell you run and fetch me my favorite dessert in the middle of the night, because it will quench my unquenchable pregnant food craves?"

"Even if you order me to run and fetch you your fa…fav…favorite…" The lord of lands and peoples of Middle-Earth was powerless to his jaw dropping in shock, his eyes wide in disbelief. "Did you say… you couldn't have said…"

"_Pregnant _food craves… as in… food cravings brought about by the magic of a _pregnancy_."

She would treasure the priceless look on Aragorn's face for the rest of her days. "Arwen—"

"Perhaps this will tell you to listen to your little wife. I do mean, if she happens to say that there is still hope… you listen to her, and you understand that there is still hope. No matter how many years go by, the wife will end up—"

"PREGNANT?" Aragorn shrieked, as a grin that spread from ear to ear appeared on his face. "We… we are having a _BABY? A CHILD?_"

Arwen cradled his head in her hands, as they both were overtaken by tears of joy. "A baby!" she exclaimed in reply. "A real child of our own!" They leaned forward at the same time, enveloping each other in their embrace as their lips met in a fiery kiss.

Arwen excitedly pulled back to take her overjoyed husband's trembling hand in her own. She placed it over her lower abdomen, and broke into a wider smile as he stroked the fabrics covering her skin with the utmost reverence. He raised his eyes to meet hers, and he stared at her with an angelic look on his face.

"I love you," he whispered, and again, "I love you." He started laughing happily as he scooped her up into his arms and swung her round and round, their laughter mixing into one beautiful sound. "I love you!" he exclaimed loudly, never wanting to say anything else.

Arwen's shimmering black hair flew behind her as her husband swung her around in his gentle, but firm embrace. She laughed even harder when he suddenly stopped, set her down, and began making an extreme fuss over her, instantly worried that he'd somehow damage her and her precious load in his excitement.

"No, my Aragorn, my Estel," she beamed, unable to comprehend just how happy she was. "I am fine. This is a happy moment."

Aragorn wrapped her up in his arms even more. "This is the happiest moment of my life." And with that, Aragorn interlocked his fingers with Arwen's, and they placed their joined hands on her abdomen, their dreams of the future lifting them to new heights together.

* * *

_**Finis**_

_**

* * *

****WHEW!** _

I hope you all have enjoyed reading this story as much as I have enjoyed writing it. It's so hard to imagine that this is it… this is the end. I sincerely thank those that somehow managed to continue their faith and support in me and in this story throughout this dramatic two year process. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Thank you to anyone and everyone who's ever read a single chapter of this darn story. It's been a wild ride. Thank you for going along with it with me.


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